What's it all been about, Alfie?

#071 - 1962 - Tour of Poland

2008-03-20T20:09:00.009Z

The year was flying by, late in August 1962 I was invited to the “Tour of Poland” Arthur Maxfield was to be manager. The team was,

1. Billy Perkins,
2. Gordon McNaught,
3. Chris Berretto
4. Alan Perkins.

We now raced under the banner of Great Britain. About a week or so before we left for Warsaw I had a phone call from a lad from Wolverhampton who had obtained my telephone number from Hugh Porter. His name was Alan Hodgetts and he had read in “Cycling” that I was going to Poland. It appeared Alan a student, had been on exchange visit to Warsaw and had met and fell in love with a Polish student by the name of Maria. On Alan’s return to England they had corresponded and attempts made to get Maria a visa for her to visit the U.K. Things in Communist countries were very difficult then and she was not allowed out of Poland. Their romance had blossomed and they wanted to get engaged – and this is where I came in, I was asked to take his engagement ring and give it to Maria who would meet us on our arrival in Warsaw.

Later that week I had business with Percy Stallard in Wolverhampton and arranged to meet Alan when the ring would be handed over. The day soon came when were to depart for Warsaw. Much to our consternation we had the same old “Dakota” we had flown in 1955! The plane was 10 hours late leaving London, arriving in Warsaw in the early hours of the morning. By the time we arrived Maria was dead tired having waited all day and part of the night for us. She escorted us on the coach and took us to our hotel, we were very thankful that she was there because no official had waited for us. Anyway on the bus I got down on one knee in the time honoured fashion and proposed to Maria on Alan’s behalf and fitted the ring, to the delight and amusement of everyone on the coach who applauded. Whilst we were in Warsaw, Maria acted as our interpreter and made a very good job of it too.

The Tour started from the “Palace of Culture” this was a ceremonial start, the start proper being on the outskirts of the city. Unfortunately my memory fails me for this Polish Tour, but I recall the highlight for us all was a stage win by Billy Perkins, he beat Adler of DDR in a sprint on a black cinder track. The route taken was in Eastern Poland and very close to the Russian border. When we were in Lublin I was asked by an English speaking member of the Polish team if I wanted to visit the Majdanek Concentration Camp, I hadn’t heard of this place before and as he obviously wanted company I agreed to go with him.

What a nightmare it was, it was dusk when we arrived and nobody there; we drove through the main gate, up and down the many rows of huts, and the ovens. In 1944 when the Russians arrived at the camp it held 20,000 people and their presence could still be felt. The camp had been left just as the Russians had found it. The memory will never leave me.

The race went down to a beautiful part of Poland, Zakopane in the Carpathian Mountains where we stayed in a luxury hostel. (Bob Thom, a regular visitor to my shop as sales represntative of Viking Cycles, had told me before about this place. Bob had ridden in the Tour of Zakopane in 1951 and he was full of praise for the scenery, the houses being all wood like an early Austrian scene). We had dinner at Rzeszow and then there was a torch light procession to the railway station where we caught the express to Warsaw, it was very impressive all the large crowd with naked flame torches, a brass band proceeded us.

The race finished in Warsaw where we were met again by Maria. All the race personnel had a night out in the old town, (then being restored after the German massacre in 1944). The Hotel was called the “Green Frog” prizes were presented, we left Warsaw in our favourite “Dakota” the next day .The team had ridden very well and had won quite a few prizes, some of it money Polish zlotys. The currency was invalid in England so I took the lads to the duty free Russian Shop which I had found on the 1958 Warsaw Berlin Prague trip with Tommy Eglestone. We also got a few press photos from Novy Platz newspaper office.

After three weeks together, team break ups in London always seemed a sad affair. The first meal we had on landing from Poland (where the food was not to good) was tomato soup, followed by full English breakfast and mugs of good English tea. On the train from St Pancras I went to the dining car and was directed to the 1st class. There was only room for one more person I sat with this gentleman who turned out to be none other than the ‘trouble shooter’ Sir John Harvey-Jones he was then head of British Steel and we discussed Stanton Ironworks, his views were very interesting.

#070 - 1961 - A long weekend and meeting the Prime Minister

2008-03-20T20:01:00.000Z

Trade continued to be good for us and in Sept 1961 we were appointed main stockists for BSA and Lambretta Spare Parts - ensuring extra discounts, we held our first staff dinner at the Rose & Crown Inn at Smalley and our annual ‘works outing’ to the National Cycle & Motor Cycle Show at Earls Court which was always looked forward to and enjoyed by us all. We would catch the 8 a.m. business train from Nottingham, have breakfast in the dining car and just finish that second cup of coffee as we glided in to St. Pancras, London and then by taxi to the show. Once there our suppliers fell over themselves to wine & dine us and try and sell us the earth. We caught the 6 p.m. train back to Nottingham.

The shop had another good Christmas mainly selling bikes to 15-18 year olds ( still on the 1945 birth rate bulge). Phillips kiddies trikes were in short supply that year (i.e. the luxury model with blow up tyres and a luggage boot) and I telephoned the Phillips works at Newtown (Powys) where they were manufactured and managed to reserve three, but they would have to be collected.

We had an Austin 1800 car then so could easily pick these up. I set off early but when approaching Weston on Trent the SU electric petrol pump packed up. We had had this problem before on a Riley “Elf”, so we always carried a service/exchange unit with us. The only trouble was snow on the ground and on that model the pump is just below the rear boot, I got it on but was mucked up to the eyes. There was no M54 or A5(M) or Welshpool bypass, the best way in 1960 was through Shrewsbury, on to narrow, twisty counry lanes to Montgomery through Sarn and Kerry then in the back entrance to Phillips factory near the railway. The trikes collected, it was an uneventful journey back to Long Eaton. (Phillips closed their Newtown factory in the early “70s” it is now split up in to various small units).

Kathleen had been living at No 1. Myrtle Avenue for 2 years by now, and we had become good friends. There was always a warming mug of milky coffee (sometimes laced with rum on a winter’s day) and I didn’t always wait until I had a learner rider to coach to enjoy her coffee and company. By now Dianne was 7 and David aged 4 was just starting Mikado Infants School. Although we didn’t know or speak of each others private life and our relationship was strictly platonic, it would seem that neither of us was very happy at home and this in no small way contributed to our growing friendship. Kathleen had a pedal cycle and with my knowledge of local byways I was able to give her a few routes to explore and in the summer evenings she would go towards the River Trent at Sawley, turn left by the boat yard and so down a lovely lane towards Kegworth, and also ride with the children to Dale Abbey where there is a famous farmhouse which has a church attached.

In March 1962 I had an invite to drive the team car on the “Tour de L'Avenir” i.e. the amateur “Tour de France”, a dream of a job, however due to pressure of work it was with great reluctance that I had to decline. Bert was home for the weekend and when I told him about the invite he wondered if he could go in my place. This was cleared by manager Bob Thom but he wasn’t very impressed. However, Bert did his usual ‘Stirling Moss’ job with the driving, helped the mechanic and did all the washing and odd jobs that are always needed on a stage race. This was Barry Hoban’s first stage race. When they arrived home following the race, Bob Thom telephoned and thanked me for sending such a good man.

At the end of March that year on Easter Saturday, Derby County were playing Preston North End in a Cup match, Keith and his lads Peter and David, Jean, Carol and I went. Our eldest brother-in-law had gone to work as a baker in Preston and had a big flat. We left Jean and the three children with Joyce - Keith and I going to the match. Derby won 1-0, man of the match was Prestons Archie Gemmill, Derby signed him there and then, what a player he turned out to be both for Derby County and later for Nottingham Forest. The only food we seemed to have each meal at Dougies (Jean’s brother) was “hot cross buns” and Cornish pasties.

We left Preston and travelled up north to Loch Lomond Youth Hostel which is on the shores of the Loch. En route, we had called at some friends at Inerleithen, near Peebles, the man of the house had been stationed at Chilwell Ordnance depot during the war and had married a Long Eaton girl who was a friend of ours. They lived in a pre-fabricated bungalow, these “pre-fabs” as they were called, were built after the war to house the returning Servicemen. These in Inerleithen were being brick built round the existing building. They gave us heaps of toast and mugs of tea, they had been clearing out all the rubbish and we rescued a ‘Marie Antoinette’ type hat.

We left their house going through the back way to Loch Lomand Youth Hostel. We had a meal there, then after dinner we took part in highland dancing and had a lovely night. In the grounds of the youth hostel there is a fairly high statue. Keith threw up the hat we had got from Inerleithen and it landed right on the statue’s head! Some weeks later the family came to this same hostel on a Woman’s Institute visit, espying the statue they were greatly surprised to see it wearing their hat!

We had a terrific drive on Easter Monday up the east side of Scotland to Oban; we looked round there then retraced to Connell Bridge, the railway ran at the side of the single track road, then over the Ferry at Ballachullish (there is a new bridge there now) and from there up Rannoch Moor, through Kinlockeven to Fort William and then on the road to the Isles, we only got as far as the King Charles monument when we decided we had gone far enough as we had planned to stop at Perth Youth Hostel that night. We came down the A9 arriving at Perth in time for an evening meal. Jean and the children decided to go to see a film while Keith and I went to have a look at the new Glenshee ski lift, we also went to Braemar and Balmoral. Keith and I headed back but it was now dark, we could see on the left a lovely big mansion all floodlit, we turned down a muddy track towards this house when we were accosted by a man with a shot gun who called to us……..

“Are you lost” he asked

“No, we just wanted to look at this beautiful mansion.” we replied, Keith mentioned in fun something about it could be a ‘Youth Hostel’

“No, but we can arrange for an overnight stay if you wish…..” said the man. By this time we were close up and I suddenly realised we were in conversation with Lord Hume, Prime Minister at that time. We told Lord Hume where we had left the family, he laughed and said you had better get back quickly. What a gentleman, we got back to the main road and proceeded to Perth, but by now it was after 11 p.m. and we were locked out of the hostel - Jean had to open a window for us. Keith and I considered a possible conversation when we got back to Long Eaton

‘What did you do over the weekend?’

‘Oh, went to a football match in Preston, visited a relative in Scotland, had a trip round Loch Lomand, the Road to the Isles, Glenshee, Balmoral and Braemar and stopped the night with the Prime Minister’ we decided against it as we didn’t think anyone would believe us!!

We drove home the next day going via Edinborough and the two famous bridges then on the M8 to south of Glasgow and so home on the Tuesday night. The Vauxhall “Cresta” ran like a dream, the fastest car I have ever driven apart from Bill Henshaws “E” type Jaguar.

#069 - 1961 - Tour De France

2008-03-20T12:40:00.002Z

I seemed to be drifting away from any Cycling events I was not asked to go to the Peace Race in May, but out of the blue came an invite to go to the “Tour de France” as one of three mechanics to a newly formed English team which was to be managed by a Frenchman, Monsieur Mater. I had met him in 1959 when he was Director Sportif of the Equipe Francais in the Peace Race. The other 2 mechanics were Norman Roberts and a Frenchman named Andre Chenal. Three masseurs were also appointed Bill Shilibeer was one and a Dutchman and a Frenchman making the team of officials. There was also a friend of M. Mater who was to drive the team car. The team was made up of

1. Brian Robinson
2. Tommy Simpson
3. Vin Denson
4. Kenny Laidlaw
5. Seamus Elliot (Eire)
6. Stan Brittain
7. Albert Hitchen
8. Pete Ryalls
9. Ron Coe
10. Ian Moore
11. George O’Brian
12. Sean Ryan

We were very busy at the two shops and I was not as fit as I usual was before a race, nor could I get motivated for it. Then to top it all and two days before we were due to travel to the start at Rouen, Norman Roberts rang me to say he had pushed a screwdriver through his hand, the injury being so severe he would not be able to take part. (I heard much later that Norman had got “cold feet and did not want to come). Later that evening Bert Humphreys called in the shop and I told him about Norman, a thought came in to my head - why not ask Bert to come with me to France? Bert and I discussed this and he decided to come. What a success he turned out to be, but more of this later. Bert had been unhappy with his present job for some time and so was pleased to leave. The pay in the Tour de France was twice what he was currently getting, together with excitement and food and lodgings.

We left Long Eaton by train with all our gear i.e. tool box and three cases. The case that held our valuable spare parts had been bought at Mears shop in Long Eaton, Bert tested its strength by jumping on it from off the shop counter, proclaiming it would be OK! Nowadays we would buy an aluminium one. We had arranged to meet Bill Shilliber at Victoria Station, he was there waiting and we had a chat, he could not raise my enthusiasm for the race either. Also I had been working in to the small hours of the morning and I was really dead beat. No sleep was possible on the boat, we arrived in Le Havre shattered.

We then made the short trip to Rouen and met up with the rest of our team. Some were old racing rivals of mine, Stan Brittain presented me with a rear wheel which required a new rim, all I wanted to do was sleep but there was no chance. Next and right out the blue, six Rochet frames arrived, this was the afternoon before the next days start! Andre, Bert and I got stuck in to changing these frames over. When it came to fitting the handlebars and stems we found that the frames were made for French sizes the English being slightly larger. We endeavoured to obtain different sizes but we could not. We had to file down handlebars, stems and seat pillars, a crude job on the biggest cycle race in the world.

While we were engaged in this work, in trooped a party from ‘Cycling’ led by Johnny Dennis to see how the mechanics were doing. A nice gesture really but were we embarrassed. We finished the bikes late at night. André then decided to take us for a walk to sightsee the cathedral, taking us later to the spot were Joan of Arc had been burnt to death by the English. By now I was physically drained, wishing I had never set eyes on the “Tour de France”. In the morning Pete Ryalls, who had obviously been consulting his race bible, asked me if I had brought any chain wheels with me, he wanted a 42t inner to enable him to get up the mountains. Having checked his bike over I knew he had a Williams C1200 cotter Chain set and Williams had not produced any less than 44t. Some of the riders had equipment that was much worse than that of the amateur teams I had been with in the past. Worrying me also was the brakes that some of them were riding i.e. GB centre pull, no matter how these were adjusted you could pull the levers up to the handlebars. Brian Robinson heard about my worries, he assured me that the riders in question would only last three or four days.

I was in the lead car for the first few days, the Tour provides two cars and a van for the luggage, this was in the days of National Teams, races are a lot more professional now, no comparison with the amateur days. With the first two days passing reasonably quietly, mostly bunch finishes, Shay Elliot held the Yellow jersey for one day. Still absolutely tired out I was asked to drive the number two car, a Renault Dauphine with no doors on the front. We shared driving the lead car, so as to enable each of us the excitement of driving the team car. The position of the car in the vehicle peliton is decided by the general class position of your Team.

On the fourth stage we were on the Paris-Roubaix rough roads and there was a huge crash, I rushed up to the scene with a pair of wheels, whereupon I came across Brian Robinson sitting with his back to a tree, he remarked to me quite casually that the wheels would not be any good - bring him a bike, I ran back to the car and gave him the bike and pushed him off. How to be relaxed, what a lesson for me. About five miles after this crash I was driving fast through a village to catch up with the main group, when there at the side of the road stood Tommy Simpson with a rear wheel in his hand indicating he had punctured, I quickly had a wheel out of the car, then noticing his chain was like a figure eight all twisted, I thought Christ! I will have to give him a bike. But I gave the chain a good shake and to my relief it fell in to the right position, “F…….. hell how did you do that?” said Tom. I pushed him off and he regained the main group. Unfortunately during winter training Tom had injured his knee and no matter what treatment the race doctor administered, during the stage as well, Tom had to retire. By the time we reached Grenoble we were down to five riders, this naturally made the mechanics job much easier.

At the beginning of this race we had twelve bikes and six pair of wheels, we would clean and check the bikes and then Andre would disappear to the French team to find out what gears they were riding for the mountain stage, as we were to have the same. When we got to the mountains we (Bert and I) had finished the bikes then we had to wait for Andre to come back with gear ratios, this could take some time as Andre was amongst friends and in no hurry to get back! We got fed up of changing sprockets - a much harder job than the cassette hubs supplied to day. We went over the ‘Col Mont Cenis’ and in to Italy finishing at Turin. At Turin the ‘Tour de l'Avenir’ would cross our path, this was a new race for amateurs and there was an English team in it. Bert and I waited for the England team to finish because we had decided to help this mechanic who had six bikes to do. The mechanic came along and all he could moan about was that we had three mechanics to do four bikes, we could not get a word in to offer our help, so we left him to it.

After the Turin stage to Nice our team dropped to four, Vin Denson being out of the time limit, the organisers decided that to cut down expenses a mechanic and a masseur must return home. As Bert was doing an excellent job with the luggage van and doing the washing and all sorts of things, I volunteered to go home and I have never been so relieved to leave a race before or since, it had beena real nightmare to me - I lost my race nerve completely.

On reaching home my mind was still on the race, avidly reading the cycle reports daily. The pay for mechanics in the Tour de France was very good and this enabled me to fly to Paris to see the finish on the Parc de Prinz track. The show put on before the finish to keep the crowd amused was really first class, the gendarme on BSA motor cycles bringing the house down. Then camethe massed sprint to the line, the prize presentation followed with Jacques Anquetil winning. After the final celebrations were over, Kenny Laidlaw returned home to Glasgow, the rest of us stayed with the manager M. Mater at his hotel.

Following the Tour, riders are contracted to ride in Town Centre races or as they are known in France - Criteriums. Brian and Shay were offered contracts and the next day – with Bert and I accompanying them, we drove to Evreux near Caen for a 50 lap Criterium. The whole town is roped off just like a carnival, road side seats were at a premium. This event was pure show business and a real joy to watch but what a terrible hard way to make a living, this being the day following the final stage of the Tour. The riders were booked for many days ahead for these prestigious events, but the down side was that they could be several hundred miles apart, and after a hard slog the riders wanted nothing more than to relax in their hotel instead of facing a long drive. After the first criterium Bert and I returned home elated. Bert, who had thrown caution to the winds and resigned his job to go on the Tour de France, soon found a new joinery post at the pre-fabricate building firm of Vic Hallam Ltd of Langley Mill. He was sent all over the British Isles with this work.

#068 - 1960 - Rome Olympics

2008-03-20T12:33:00.000Z

Late in 1960 we had bought a new Vauxhall ‘Cresta’ car with 6 cylinder engine (long stroke) fitted with 3 speed column change gearbox and two higher gears overdrive, maroon and silver was the colour. The front seat was a bench seat so it would carry six people with ease. We still had the tickets for the Olympic games so after a little heart searching (money wise) we decided to take the plunge. Carol and Jean didn’t have passports, so I rang the head Passport Office at Petty France in Kensington and was told to be down at the office the following morning 9 a.m. and the passports would be issued. I then organised the “Green Card” insurance etc through the RAC and tickets for the channel crossing - we were to sail from Folkestone on the midnight boat to Boulogne.

We travelled down to London the previous evening booking into a ‘bed & breakfast’ hotel. Whilst waiting for our passports we took a trip round the city of London and in Trafalgar Square we saw a travel shop, I went in and much to our surprise was able to arrange a package holiday which included several trips, accommodation in a monastery and a concert in Rome. We collected the passports and so drove on to Folkestone where we had a few hours on a local beach, and then at 11 p.m. we boarded the boat. An uneventful crossing, the sea being dead calm, we drove off the boat heading through the Great War battlefields were my Dad had been during the First World War. Arras, Bapaume, Menin Gate Amiens, Chateau Thierry and so down to Dole then to Dijon and so over the Jura Mountains in to Switzerland. The weather and the scenery impeccable. We descended in to Lausanne where at a fork in the road i.e. left to Neufchatel and right for Brega and the Grand St Bernard Pass, we managed to get super accommodation on the interchange. The people here made quite a fuss of us and a big crowd gathered round the car.

Early risers the next morning we travelled alongside the lovely Lake Leman to Montreux, Sion and Brig then over the stupendous Grand St Bernard Pass with its lovely view of Mont Blanc with the Monastery and small lake in the foreground. The descent was a bit hairy but we soon found ourselves in the majestic busy City of Milan. We seemed to be lost, when I espied a very small sign which said Autostrada, we followed these signs which eventually put us on the “Route de Sol” I thought the road had been completed to Rome, but it disappeared at Bolonga. We then inquired the way from an Italian, and with all sorts of signs and markings on the map, we were to instructed to travel to Forli on the Adriatic, then turn right going through Assisi, Perugia and so on to Rome.

Whilst on the lower slopes of the Grand St Bernard Pass a Vespa scooter came careering towards us obviously out of control with a ‘wheelie’. On this machine were two Welsh girls, they just missed us and fell off in front of a rented Ford with three Australian lads who were also going to the Olympics, luggage was all over the road, and a wallet with money. One girl had a large ‘egg shaped’ bump in her forehead, she obviously would have concussion. The other girl had cut her arm and leg. We had a good first aid kit with us and were able to administer aid as best we could. Meanwhile the Australian lads had, with great present of mind, managed to stop a small flat bottom farm vehicle, the Swiss driver could speak English, he picked up the bike (which strangely enough did not show any sign of damage) promising us that he would take the girls to the nearest Hospital and then take them to the nearest YHA. We said goodbye to the Australian “threesome” and by coincidence we were to see them in the stadium at the Opening Ceremony they sat in the next seats to me. I have often wondered how these Welsh girls fared because we forgot to take their addresses.

We arrived in Rome early in the morning, what a busy city - cars, motor bikes, mopeds, scooters and bikes by the thousand. After several mistakes we eventually found the Monastery, it was in a beautiful spot on a wooded hillside near to the Forum, we pressed the doorbell and a big oak door opened with compressed air, we explained our visit to the Sister who readily had us park the car in their private square, then took us in to the Monastery and gave us a splendid meal. We were then taken up to our dormitory where we had a family room. The other people staying here were Canadians, New Zealanders, South Africans, Australian and Americans, we had a great time with them.

As we had driven all night we decided to go to bed for a few hours before we tackled Rome. The Opening Ceremony was in the evening and luckily the weather had cooled. Unfortunately, whilst we had three tickets, one was on one side of the Arena and two on the other so we had to part. Carol and Jean to the nearside of the Stadium and me on the other, typical really, when I eventually found my seat who should be there but the Australians we had seen on the Grand St Bernard.

The following morning after a good breakfast we were off on a trip to the Vatican and St. Peters (This was included in the price of the package we had bought in London).We were taken on a coach and had a guide, it was a moving experience and took up all the morning. After lunch we braved the busy city to find the new Olympic Velodrome as we had tickets for the cycling events. The first event on the lavish programme was the 1000 metre sprint for tandems and in the third heat our own Eric Thompson and Peter Brotherton were competing. The stadium was not full but we gave our tandem duo a big ovation, calling their names and making our presence known. After the race and the two were on a ‘wind-down’ lap, they looked to see where all the support for them was coming from – and were amazed and pleased to see us! Eric had no idea we were in Rome and he and Peter came in the crowd to sort us out, we had a long chat and who should join us but Gold medallist from Australia Ron Webb (later to be the great builder of six day wooden Velodromes). It was a honour to make his acquaintance. As the team had no transport other than a lorry for the forthcoming road race, Eric asked if I could come to the village early on the Sunday and take the team to the start. (Before that, Lloyd Binch was competing in the sprints and he won his first heat but went out in the second round to Baski of USSR).

By now I was allowed in the middle of the track and witnessed a row between the manager and Karl Barton. Karl had been informed earlier that this particular afternoon was for training purposes for the 1000 Time Trial and the Open 1000m sprint, consequently he had not brought his higher sprockets. In fact, his event was actually on the same afternoon and so he had to ride in the TT on a lower gear than he would normally, his time was not too bad 1m11secs.. The race was won by an Italian with 1m8secs who also won the sprint the same afternoon, his name Giriadoni.

Days before the road race Jean, Carol and I were taken by coach to Tivoli gardens about 20 mile south of Rome where we had another good day, this package was proving to be the highlight of the holiday. We were also taken to Aosta beach - an old Roman watering place, the trouble was the heat, and one could not walk on the sand. This was the same day the 100km Team Pursuit was held, the heat proving too much for a Danish rider who collapsed and died of sun stroke. We found out later in the day that Anita Longsborough had won a gold medal for England in the swimming - this cheered all our teams up.

The day of the road race soon arrived, I was down at the Olympic Village quite early, Eric met me at the gate and, after explaining my reason for being there we were let in. Eric and I picked up the bikes and gear for the four riders, Arthur Maxfield the team manager went to the road circuit by bus. On our arrival at the famous Car racing circuit, we checked the bikes and the spare wheels then went in to the pits, where a hell of a row was in progress between the race organisers (UCI) and our team manager. An England ladies cycle team had competed in the World Championships in East Germany the week before and had travelled down to Rome as spectators - two of the girls were close friends of the Olympic Team. They were in the pits when Arthur arrived and after greeting each other, the girls asked if they could help in any way. Arthur was pleased to accept and promptly set them. The rules clearly state that no women were allowed in the pits area, and this is what the kafuffle was about. Eric and I listened for a while and then decided to go on the other side of the circuit to the service bay with the wheels and spare bikes. (There was no following service car in those days so service personnel were spaced around the circuit).

The race eventually started and they kept together for several laps but eventually a breakaway formed on a slight uphill gradient, to our delight this contained our own Billy Holmes and Bill Bradley. With three laps to go, the official feeding time commenced – first attempts to pass the mussette to both Bills was unsuccessful so they had to wait till the next lap. So anxious was the helper Joe McLean to succeed this time, he ran out and the mussette swung into the front wheel of Billy Holmes fetching him off, Bill Bradley close behind could not avoid the hapless Billy and so they were both floored!! Bill Bradley was able to re-mount but Billy (Holmes) bike was too damaged. Fortunately an England Olympic trackman was standing close by with his road bike and was able to hand this to Billy, whilst they were both able to finish, too much time had been lost and they finished in the second group and out of the medal places.! I remembered the incidence but not the full details and so – 40 odd years later – I telephoned Billy Holmes to get clarification; Later I was speaking to Barry Hoban and mentioned the incident to him – he suprised me with the added information that he had been that England Olympic trackman and so it was on Barry’s bike that Billy had finished! Our old Peace Race rival Kapitanov of USSR won the gold medal, but it could have been so different. With the benefit of hind sight years, Eric and I should have supported Arthur Maxfield, after all he had hell of a task on his own. (I was to go with Arthur to the “Tour of Poland” in September 1962).

We eventually left the Frashetti circuit, I think all the team were in the car, we had no trouble entering the village, but I did have trouble finding my way back to the Monastery after I had taken the girls back to their “digs”. We went to an open air concert the evening before our depart, this was also part of the package. A large orchestra played and the vocalist being very good. He sang “Arriverderchi Roma” for his finale, pointing at Carol making crying signs. During our Rome visit we went to several camp sites and Youth Hostels to enquire the whereabouts of brother in law Peter, we were allowed the use of in house tannoy, all to no avail.

We left Rome early and by a different route on Monday morning, going by Siena and Florence, eventually staying the night in the Tirreno Port of La Spezia.We had dinner then a lovely evening walk round the naval area, a Navy band was playing on the sea front. The next morning we went to pay for our stay and food, we found we were out of - or at least had not got enough - Italian currency. In a discussion with the proprietor, we said we would wait until the Banks opened then we would change our English money ‘No’ said the man ‘we will make present to you, for Italia Anglia friendship’, we were overwhelmed by their kindness. I checked the map and decided to take the scenic coast road towards Genoa, instead of the new Autostrada. After being on this scenic road for about 10 mile we saw in the distance a touring cyclist, this turned out to be Jean’s brother Pete, we were all “gob smacked” he was completely speechless. We brewed tea on our calor gas stove, the first English brew he had drunk in months. After swapping stories and filling his saddle bag with food and fruit we bid him farewell (3 month elapsed before his return to England). We managed to bypass Genoa to Allesandria then up the Aousta valley and so over the petit St Bernard then on to the Grand St Bernard, we stayed at the Monastery hostel at the summit. This was another experience - the beds were like boxes, very high off the floor and you really did have to climb in to bed. From there we descended to Lausanne, calling at the same hotel as on our outward journey, the Swiss made us very welcome. We left Lausanne reverting to our outward journey and so home.

I returned to the shops which had again been doing well, priority had to be given to the Purchase Tax returns. The manufacturers and the Tax authorities had come up with a scheme whereas a Dealer paid for the motor cycle in full, the Purchase Tax need not be paid until the motor cycle was sold. A lot of motor cycles had been sold so a big cheque went off to the Inland Revenue. Autumn was soon upon us and this saw us walking in Derbyshire going up Bleaklow and Kindescout.

On the YHA side, regular Sunday (and when able, weekends) trips were made to the Peak District - an annual weekend event was to Ilam for Bonfire Night. A riotous Pantomime was performed by members prior to the fireworks, directed by “Tinsel” Allen wife of famous mountain climber “Nat” Allen and always a roaring success. 7 years previously (1953) and with 15 entrants, Derby Mercury’s annual Cross Country Race was born – originally between the cyclists and walkers of the Derby Mercury Running Club, it was intended to ‘run off’ the excesses of the previous bonfire night. A cross-country course of just under 5 miles, it would eventually reach national acclaim and become known as the ‘Dovedale Dash’. It started at Ilam Hall just before the main gate to Ilam YHA, the course going along side the River Dove to Thorpe, round Thorpe Cloud over the stepping stones in Dovedale and then return to Ilam YHA. The first event was won by that stalwart Ken Broadhurst of Derby Mercury. Now it has grown to a main International race and is run by the Peak National Park. In 2000 the number of runners was a massive 1,200 of all abilities.

#067 - 1960 - Life at Home

2008-03-20T12:31:00.002Z

After Dad died Mother took over part of the bookkeeping and did the Banking etc and trips to the Bank Manager, especially in the early days because our bank account was frozen, Dad having died in testate. She also travelled to Derby Vehicle Licence Office collecting road fund and driving licences, especially on a Friday so as customers would be able to have their vehicles for the weekend, she also often picked up spare parts from ‘Ingles of Derby’ who were then the BSA main dealers. She would travel by train to Derby and at that time she could visit her sister who lived on Oxford St., (now part of Derbyshire Royal Infirmary). When in their wisdom the Licence Authority moved to Matlock she made several trips by train there, then caught a bus to the top of a hill in Matlock to Smedleys Hydro which had been taken over by Derbyshire County Council. The County still have their meetings there but of course the Licence Authority has been transferred to Swansea.

Mum would check the bought ledger and make cheques out at the end of the month, for years we paid everyone at the end of the month following date of dispatch obtaining 2.5% discount, motor cycles which were paid within 14 days obtained a further 3.75% settlement discount. Paying people on time allowed us access to many short supply items. The shop was altered (we had bought the two properties next door knocking them in to an “N” shape building. Mother was then able to have a self contained flat up a separate staircase at the rear.

I personally owe a great debt to my Mother as having been born with clubfeet she was the one who carried me on her back to the station and so to hospital. In hindsight I can see I was spoilt to the detriment of my younger brother Ernie. He was two years younger than me and as my youngest brother was born 18 months after Ernie, he obviously being in the middle missed out on a lot of love as I was taking a lot of my Mothers time. When I was in hospital my Mother did not miss a visit, often coming by pedal cycle to Coleshill and Bretby. Both Alan and Ernie were left at home and, as Dad was full time in the shop, they had to make their own enjoyment. ( I will be honest this is the first time I have put these thoughts in to words and it makes me feel very humble)

Meanwhile Jean, Carol and I were living at the rear of the College Street premises with Ernie and Doreen and their three children Alan, Yvonne and Jeanette next door. There was always an undercurrent of jealousy, especially over money, one family thinking they were having the worst of the bargain. I had many an argument over my going abroad but our Tamworth Road business was doing twice as much as College Street. Ernie in the 1950’s did have a few trips to Eire where he and Bill Henshaw were treated as Internationals and rode at College Park (Trinity College), Ernie never missed a midweek International Football match of which there were many. He was also a Manchester United fan and travelled to their games, his young son Alan going along with him.

Family holidays were had each year mostly in the Bournemouth area, Keith my brother-in-law and his family were stopping nearby so we could get together for beach football and cricket. In the evenings we went to the Bournemouth Symphony Hall Concerts held, if weather permitted, outside. The skating extravagances were also top rate as were the swimming galas. The years slipped by, I would not say that Jean and I were the best of partners she having a vile temper, still we got along. I do not suppose I was the best person to get along with, never on time for meals etc.

#066 - 1960 - Tour of Tunisia

2008-03-19T13:29:00.002Z

In March 1960 I received an invite from the BCF to go as mechanic to the “Tour of Tunisia” The team would be

Alan Jacobs
Bill Baty
Norman Baty
Norman Taylor
Ray Leivers
Mick Coupe

Manager would be Bob Maitland. I wrote to each rider and got particulars of their equipment, and by now my own tools and parts were always ready. I was apprehensive about Bob because when we were in Eire for the 1950 Dublin-Galway-Dublin International he was there on an ‘expenses paid trip’ as a star English International and he would have nothing to do with us. Anyway at the time he was a representative for (if I remember rightly) Fibrax and one or two firms. Bob rang me and arranged a lunch date at the Royal Hotel. The day came and I had the usual trouble getting away, we discussed the forthcoming tour but his main objective seemed to be to try and sell me his wares. I was not having any of this, but he still wangled for me to pay for the lunch.

The day dawned when we all met at Doughty Street at the BCF headquarters, now well accustomed to the routine, I bought some coat and lapel badges to be given in return for any favour done to us on the coming Tour. We weighed in at South Kensington Air Terminus and so on to Heathrow where we eventually set off on an old two-tier Bristol Freighter for Paris. Here we picked up the Dutch, French, East German and Belgian teams. We landed at Tunis late afternoon. What a transformation from Paris, the bus the officials put our team in had animals and chickens and bikes and luggage on the top - I do not know how it moved at all. We were taken quite a way from Tunis to stay at an ex-French Foreign Legion Camp, already there were the friendly Yugoslavian team who showed us the “ropes”.

In the adjacent camp were Algerian soldiers training for the fighting in Algeria against the French. For team cars the authorities provided us with small Fiat four door models and an Arab driver. Luckily Bob spoke French so we were able to converse with him. We rode down to the start at mid-day, where it eventually got underway ¾ hour late much to Bob’s annoyance. The stage was fairly flat with drags and Alan Jacobs got away with a small group, when we were about 10 mile from the finish in Sfax the heavens opened and it poured down with rain. In the finishing straight it must have been 6” deep, Alan Jacobs won the “sprint”. The rain was still tippling down and with no gutters or drains the road was flooded. We stayed on higher ground in an ex-French Foreign Legion Barracks, collecting our mattresses from a pile in the corner of the dusty Nissan type hut, blankets were provided but no sheets, so everyone slept on the floor wearing their track suits, even the race officials had the same basic accommodation. (Can you imagine our ‘blazer brigade’ doing this). Much to our misbelieve the food was excellent. I found a place to do the bikes, Alan Jacobs had complained of squeaky bottom bracket. On stripping this I found both Campag ball races had disintegrated. I washed it out and fitted loose balls with plenty of Filtrate high melting point grease (still using this tin to-day at home 2001).

Bob was doing a good job massaging the legs and doing the feeding bags and bottles, I had bought bottles of “Milton” to clean and sterilise our feeding bottles. We also bought with us water purifying tablets, personally I had no trouble but unfortunately Bill Baty and Alan Jacobs would to have to retire with a touch of dysentery.

The next stage was from Sfax-Sousse, I cannot remember any major happenings with our team apart from the fact that Bill and Alan were ill. Bill had all the bunch, irrespective of nationality saying a current catch-phrase in the UK - “Charley Brown is a Clown”. When Bill had to “pack” you could hear going round the peloton ‘Charley Brown Kaput’. The next stage was from Souse to Sfax, along the coast towards the desert at Gabes, Alan was suffering with his dysentery finishing well down, and he retired the next day. After his first day holding the yellow jersey we had high hopes of him. Alan was to turn pro later in his career and do quite well.

Norman Baty surprised us by his prowess in the hills, he was a terrible descender though, taking both feet out of the clips trailing one foot on the road, frightening to watch. We were in the lovely town of Kairouvan and this was a rest day. We were hoping that Alan and Bill would recover, but the Doctor gave them a “jab”, which made them worse. We turned tourist in the afternoon visiting the Mosque which we found very interesting. We also entered a Carpet shop, the proprietor was very efficient showing all his wares until he found out we were English, he almost threw us out of his shop. Wondering how we could have instilled such a reaction, we went back with someone who could interpret for us. After the shop keeper had calmed down he gave us a bit of history. In 1943 when the Germans were there the Luftwaffe and Wehrmact airmen and soldiers were very polite and paid for all goods and had them dispatched to Germany. Later in 1943 the English arrived and, he alleged, ransacked his shop stealing his carpets, hence his temper with us. We were the first English to visit since then.

We stayed in good accommodation in Kairoan and the cuisine was good. The facilities for mechanics were also first class. The following day saw us climbing the Kasserine Pass, this was where the Americans took a pounding from Rommel in 1943. We stayed the night at Kasserine, again in French Foreign Legion Nissan type huts.

When I was 14 years old I had borrowed a book from Long Eaton library by ex-legionnaire Waterhouse, an Englishman who had enlisted at Sidi Bel Abbes in Algeria, in the book he describes the murals painted on the walls. I was lying there with the book coming to life. Actually the barracks were ex Foreign Legion as Tunisia obtained independence from France in 1956.

The race then went up north to Tabarka and on to the French Naval port at Biserta, we were not received to well here either, due to the fact that in 1940 the British fleet had sunk half the French Navy to prevent it falling into Germans hands, in the process the town was damaged. From Biserta to the finish at Tunis and we were delighted with the form of Norman Baty - he finished 2^nd in the sprint. We were in Tunis 2 days and the day before we left we were invited to the British Embassy at Cap Bon. We were entertained very well and in a lull in the conversation the Ambassador asked if anyone cared to visit Alexander’s city at Cathage, if so he would arrange a car, amazing as it may seem only two of us took up the offer, an interpreter and myself. The trip was very interesting, Cap Bon was where the German Africa Corp under General Armin surrendered to General Montgomery in 1943.

We flew home the following day in the same Bristol Freighter via Paris to London. An amusing incident happened immediately on take off from Tunis - a cheer went up from all on board, no one had led it but it was a spontaneous response from us all, we were so pleased to get away.

#065 - 1959 - Tour of Sweden

2008-03-19T13:13:00.007Z

At the end of 1959 I was asked to go to the Tour of Sweden which I accepted promptly, the team was

Bill Bradley
Ernie Scally
John Perks
Kenny Laidlaw

The Manager was Ken Ryall who had a cycle shop in Surrey and masseur was again that great Finn Arne Lundgren who had been masseur in 1956 and the successful year of 1958 when Stan had won the event.. We again went by train and boat, this time from Tilbury to Esberg in Denmark then by train to Ellsinore, across the ferry to Helsinborg in Sweden, where we had a meal near the Shakespeare Castle.

We were sat outside this restaurant when a van pulled up and the driver got out the van, coming over to to ask if we were the British team, it appears Ken Ryall had made a deal for us to ride frames by the name of “Champion”. As we had got two days before the start. I rigged up my portable bike stand and changed the frames around. I wonder why Team Managers think we have nothing to do.

The race started in Varbreg, home of the famous manufacture “Monark” motorcycles and bikes. Most of the Swedish riders rode for “Monark” in blue or “ Crescent” in yellow. “Monark” headquarters was in a medieval castle and all the race personnel and riders were invited to a dinner held in the jousting Hall, and all the castle staff were dressed in period costume, the food and wine were superior. Even the dungeons had prisoners which looked so realistic, our interpreter drew us over to an underground cell and inside there was two ‘prisoners’ in chains! (We had very good interpreters in Sweden, this one I had met 2 years previous) After dinner came entertainment ending up in the castle grounds with a massive sing song round a campfire. Sitting by me at the “sing song” I was introduced to Kate Jobson who had recently won a silver medal at the Olympics in Helsinki. Her dad was Swedish and her mother English, Kate took me to her training pool and to her home, what a terrific ambassador to Sweden she was. Unfortunately during the winter 1959/60 while skiing in the mountains she fell and broke her back, what a tragedy. She with two more Swedish athletes rode from the ceremonial start to the proper start on the edge of Varberg.

Unfortunately I cannot recall the route we took in Sweden, I remember the road surface was bad as we seemed to be on non-tarmac roads, apart from the towns. The team rode well but nothing like the 1957/8 had done . Bill Bradley repeated his Peace Race win with one on his own in Sweden. The team rode quite well. After the race Ernie Scally and Kenny Laidlaw bought super leather jackets with their prize money. We again caught a boat to the island of Skansen with its live Agricultural Museum.

We caught the Helsinki-Stockholm-Copenhagen-Paris-Rome express quite an experience as we had sleeping apartments, we were in Copenhagen well in time for us to look round this historic city, and of course the famous fair. Eventually we caught the train to Esberg and so on the boat to Tilbury. Quite an interesting trip and better than flying. The team had knitted well to-gether, the two Scotch lads being good comedians, Bill Bradley was a good tactician and “Porky” Perks a good sprinter and Ken Ryall was a good organiser. Bill Bradley was to go on to win quite a few English Milk Races as well as breaking the record for the fastest rider up the “Gross Glockner Pass in Austria, he also finished 10^th (no mean achievement) in the 1960.Peace Race.

Back home the business was prospering the 1945 birth bulge allowed us to have a bumper year for bikes mostly for 13-14 year olds, this bulge is still the highest age group for sales of goods even to-day for 50-55 year olds. We had this group buying scooters and motorcycles and the cars and now a few “oldies” are buying the new range of high powered motorcycles.

Early 1960 saw us selling quite a few motorcycles, scooters and mopeds to “L” drivers. We would not let anyone away from our shop unless they could handle their machines fairly reasonably and we would give these riders instruction in a quiet side street next to our shop, The procedure we adopted in this learning was to make the customer familiar with the controls especially the throttle/clutch in bottom gear, then we would take them on the pillion and after a few splutters they were off on their own as soon as we deemed it proficient.

At the corner of the street near the main road a new family moved in and on cold mornings the young lady of the house would take pity on us and made us hot, milky coffee to keep us warm. Little did I know that I would fall in love with this girl and after much, much heart ache came extreme pleasure. (We came to-gether in 1972 and were married in 1977. A complete book could be written on this period alone but it would be shelved in the ‘Fiction section’) !

Pete, one of my brothers-in-law had set out early in the year with two friends on a European trip which would eventually finish up at the Rome Olympics, where they had bought tickets for the Opening Ceremony and various events including “Cycling”. Three of them set out, but after crossing in to Yugoslavia from Bari to Split one of Pete’s companions had to fly home due to his father being seriously ill. In error he bought all the tickets home, he had no idea how to get the tickets back to his companions, and so to avoid wasting them gave us the tickets.

#064 - 1958 - Peace Race - Part 3

2008-03-12T15:51:00.001Z

The “rest day” was at Chemnitz, then called Karl Marx Stadt. After doing the bikes in the morning, now down to five, the lads had a small ride followed by a light massage. In the afternoon we were invited to a chocolate factory and found it very interesting. We also had a good time at a party arranged for us in the canteen, dancing with the office staff as well took our minds off the race. We also were given lovely presents and all the “smarties” we wanted. In return I had bought a load of BCF England lapel and blazer badges which I presented to the staff.

The metal badges made by Fattorni in Birmingham where a great hit. Next morning we were back for the third time in Czechoslovakia, my favourite of the three countries. After two days in Czech, Bill Bradley won the stage in to Brno - a brilliant ride and we were ecstatic. We should have got a place in the first three the next day, Brian was away with a group of three, but just prior to the stadium finish there is a short rise, Brian jumped the two but then his chain missed a couple of sprockets and all was lost, he was caught by another group on the cinder track. I took the blame.

Before the evening banquet a large television set was put in the main lounge. Celtic were playing a Dutch team in the European Cup Football, the place was packed and the atmosphere terrific especially as Celtic won. The next day UCI Representative (and Scottish Cycle Union Rep), Arthur Campbell and I were invited to the houses of my Czech friends Milan Perich and the race doctor, Merek Slavic. We all had a great day together, and after a few drinks we were singing all the old Scottish melodies, Arthur was our accompanist on his mouth organ. Wives Vera and Magda were excellent hosts. We flew from Prague in high spirits being met at the airport by the President of the BCF and some staff, Ernie’s wife and a few more. With Stan 9^th , Owen 12^th and Bill 17^th that was an excellent finishing position for the team.

I had won and been presented with so many souvenirs that I filled completely one of those four wheel trolleys at the railway station! and was pretty laden down with my spares, bike, tools and special case (my nephew Alan collected me from Nottingham in our Ford 5cwt van).

Back to work with a bump again and of course pleased to see we were still busy, both repair shops were ‘up to the neck in it’ and we had to set on another mechanic, Steve Waplington, He was to be a good assembler when the crated Hondas came along in 1964, (he now works for Roy Pidcock Motor Cycles doing almost the same job).

Nottingham Track League had changed to Harvey Hadden stadium which was a tarmac track 3^rd of a mile in circumference , to big really. I went down with my track bike tools and Dunlop brass double-acting foot pump. I thought I was going to get a ride, but I seemed to blowing every body’s tyres up and doing little jobs like truing wheels etc. I did eventually get a ride in the 5 mile scratch, I tried my usual jump with 4 laps to go but nothing happened, apart from a few rides on the tandem with Eric Thompson who thought I would be OK as his partner for he had just lost Peter Brotherton, my work commitments were to heavy to give up time for tandem training, I was 36 anyway and flattered. I suggested Geoff Cooke.

#063 - 1958 - Peace Race - Part 2

2008-03-12T15:47:00.001Z

The night before the start of the event Tom came to see me in my bike room, I had just finished the bikes, it would be about 9pm, Tom asked if I fancied a drink and suggested we went away from our hotel and into the city. I said that I had been to Warsaw twice before but never out on the town.

“Well” says Tom “I have spoken to a taxi driver out front and he says he can take us to a nightclub, lets go for an hour. We have been working hard these last few days so come on”. I was soon changed and down stairs for a taxi to take us to this nightclub. We were dropped outside a large city store which I had shopped in for souvenirs last year, a shop selling Russian goods all duty free, but I had never known of the club at the top of this store.

Up the lift we went, it was more like a Pub than a night club, we sat down and ordered two beers, planning to have a couple then return to the hotel. Three Polish Army officers came in one of whom could speak English and they sat at our table. They kept ordering Vodka so much that in no time these three officers were drunk and lying under the table. We were then presented with a bill for all the Vodka, it appears that these officers had told the waiter that we would pay for the lot. The proprietors were on the verge of fetching the police and we had visions of an international incident, when a couple from two tables away came to our rescue. One of these gentlemen was a Polish ex Royal Air Force man and he explained the problem to the hotelier and as soon as everyone knew we were on the Peace Race and English we got a big cheer, we left soon after, a nasty incident being avoided.

The first stage was a hard, fast one with no hills to break it up, a small group of three did get away on the long, twisty park paths before we crossed the river to finish in the magnificent stadium at Praga. The three who had escaped were 1^st - Barriveira (Italy) from Bebebin (USSR) while 3^rd was that old pal of ours Kapitanow (USSR). We were in the prizes winning third team award.

Praga was where the Russian Army stopped in late 1944 and the Warsaw rising started, we had been to the ghetto the previous two days before, there was a new memorial for the Poles who had died - there it was very moving.

The team were riding well, we had at least three riders in the first 20 most days, so as the first twenty had prizes we were not doing to badly. Doing a bike change one day Ernie Clements casually looked down at the bike and shouted to me “Alf, look here” I followed his gaze and found that I had fitted a pair of toe clips upside down on the spare pedals that I always carried in the car. We instructed our driver to go forward to give me time to change them round, I was then able to give the rider a bike he could get his shoes in!! a close shave that was. Damen (Holland) was race leader in Poland with Russia winning the team.

In to Germany going from Breslau to Gorlitz we won the 3^rd daily team prize and on the next stage from Gorlitz to Berlin, Stan was second to that great DDR man Adler, the rest of the team riding well. Gill Taylor had a crash injuring himself so much he was unable to start the next day. His frame had a bent top and down tube and was a write off. We had with us a spare frame (lent by Coventry Eagle) and not knowing whether Gill would be on the start line the next day, I could take no chances, so in the evening I changed all his gear on to the Coventry Eagle, Gill came to the mechanics room after dinner, and he asked that I remove the heavy badge of the front which I did, to the consternation of Ernie Clements who I had forgot worked for Coventry Eagle at Smethwick.

At the end of our stay in Germany we were 6^th in the team competition and had three in the first 20 overall, John Pound and Brian Haskell going well. I had to tell Brian that his chain and freewheel had shot it, “Have you got any Perry chains” he asked, I had with me the world’s best “Brampton” a French subsidiary of Renold, England, but Brian rode as a professional for Perry and he would not let me carry out the repair with the Brampton chain. (Years later I would have fitted these parts and argue after - “fait accompli”).

#062 - 1958 - Peace Race - Part 1

2008-03-12T15:17:00.003Z

2 weeks prior to us leaving, Johnny Dennis had to pull out unexpectedly and a new team manager had to be found, I was hoping that I would be chosen but Ernie Clements was appointed, Tommy Egglestone who was with Watford Football Club at the time accepting the appointment as masseur, (he would eventually move to Sheffield Wednesday (Masseur) and then on to Everton), Tom was a very good man and to enter his massage room was a tonic in its self. The team was the now familiar

Stan Brittain,
Owen Blower,
Brian Haskell,
John Pound,
Bill Bradley
Gill Taylor,

I had written each rider in turn to ascertain brakes, freewheel and pedal type etc.

I was able to obtain Fiamme rims from Tabucchi Tyre Co, from British Hub Co Ltd “Airlite” Q/R hubs, Coventry Swaging gave us the spokes and nipples. Handlebar bar tape was donated by Ron Kitching and tubular tyres with the new No.2 and No.3 type as well as the old No.5. were given by the Dunlop Rubber Company. We had 60 tyres in all, in fact in error we had collected tyres that were meant to be donated for the whole of season 1958. To pack these tyres I bought a strong case with a good lock.

It was a lovely spring 1958, a lot of warm sun, I was able to sit outside and build 9 pair of these wheels. I delivered the wheels personally to the riders and so at the same time was able to re-acquaint myself with them. I knew them all apart from Gill Taylor and he was very easy to get along with. Came the great day of leaving Heathrow, I had checked all the bags and bikes and saw them on the plane, handing the receipt labels to Ernie Clements. We flew to Warsaw Airport, where the race was starting that year. We sorted the bikes and baggage out only to find out that Ernie had lost the receipt tags. That was only the first cockup, somehow we had lost two bags as well and I shot off to find them, and did eventually get this sorted out. I think Ernie thought I was taking over and reminded me that he was in charge, so I left him to sort out the bags and bikes to be put on the coach. He succeeded in losing one bike and 2 cases between the airport and hotel – I was detailed to go and find them, which I did! (the 2 cases had been delivered to the wrong room and the bike was out side the lift).

We stopped in the magnificent Hotel Warsaw and were all together on the 2^nd floor, each floor had two maids who would attend to any sewing and ironing, and they were a great help. We had landed late at Warsaw and after the preliminaries of meeting several of the race committee and our Polish Interpreter, (who by now was a good friend to past riders - only Ernie, Tom and Gill were new to him). Dinner was ready on our arrival where we again met a lot of old friends. Several race officials came to see me officially, and I should have referred and introduced them to Ernie, but I was happy to bask in the glory of recognition and I was still jealous that I had not been chosen for team manager! although I was able to answer all their queries.

By my way of thinking, I was experienced in this work, this being my third Peace Race. I had also been on the Tour of Eire 3 times and to the Tour Sweden. As far as I was aware, Ernie had been Manager on the Tour of Scotland in 1957. His riding days were far more widely ranging and successful than mine, but being a top class rider does not always make a good official. This is the first time I have thought of this in this manner - in hindsight

After dinner I donned overalls then down to my mechanics room. I was able to brief Ernie on the initial routine and that the interpreter would take him to the race Headquarters where he would be given frame and jersey numbers and spending money to the equivalent of about £4 a day whilst we were in Poland. He would also be given a race ‘bible’ and also some souvenirs, I also advised him that he would be expected to sort out the food menu for the whole fortnight and it was better to do this with the aid of the riders.

He (Ernie) enjoyed the “Bonhomie” with the other managers and officials, socialising and drinking too much, (some do). He forgot the menus even though his interpreter tried to tell him, and did them himself in haste.. The error was compounded when, after 3 days of the same fare, the English riders found that Ernie had ordered the same food every day, that included steak for dinner, - ideal, but not to have every day. To alter the menus is very difficult as food has to be ordered well in advance, consequently we were not the best thought of team on the race. Nor were we very happy. Good job the masseur who knew his job and kept the lads moral up by his very quick wit and his tales with the football teams. He actually played for Derby County in 1948, and Derby being FA cup winners in 1946/7 season had invites to play from all over Europe and had been to Warsaw.

#061 - 1957 - Peace Race - Stage 6 - 13

2008-03-12T14:58:00.004Z

Stage 6 - Karl MarStadt to Leipzig 161km - Another bad day for our team losing minutes to all our highly placed competitors and also losing our high position in the Team general classification, on a higher note the team were riding well together and having no trouble. Christoff was still race leader from Proost, Team general class was held by France 3min 44secs from Poland, Belgium 3^rd at 8min 41secs.

Stage 7 Leipzig-Berlin 207km - I cannot remember much about this stage apart from Van Tongerlloo (Belgium) winning the stage. You will notice that the Belgians were well up winning prizes, their Director Technique was Lucian Acou the famous six day rider, (we were to be great friends in later years, his daughter in the future was to marry Eddy Merck). Christoff was still race leader from Proost (Belgium), with Kapitanow (USSR) 3^rd. Accommodation in Berlin was at best basic staying in a school, bike facilities were very good.

Stage 8 - Berlin – Gorlitz 225km. - We were still struggling to make further progress but could not make much impression, although we were still finishing well together. Butzen (Denmark) won the event with their team winning the daily team prize. Overall, the first three places remained the same, Poland winning the team classification.

A further rest day was held at Gorlitz, we were entertained at a factory making Schnapps. We had a great time there, all racing worries forgotten.

Stage 9 - Gorlitz-Wroclawi (Breslau) 188km. - After the disappointments of the previous 4 days in Germany, we entered Poland and for once our team plan worked , a good break developed this time without Christoff. Stan won the stage from Costantin Dimitrescu (remembered by his black socks) 3^rd was Kapitanow (USSR). England were again the daily team leaders, Kapitanow (USSR) who had been in the break with Stan ,Owen and Bill became race leader 1min 15sec from 2^nd place Christoff, with Proost now 3^rd at 1min 52secs. Poland were still overall Team Leaders.

Everything seems to be so much better when the team are going well. To-night was no exception, I had helped another rider in trouble (the details escapes my memory now) for which I was presented with a decorative basket which contained 20 bottles of Riesling. My foreign mechanic mates and I soon polished this off!

Stage 10 - Wroclaw-Katowice 201 km - Another 125km stage through the industrial heartland of Poland, similar to 1955 everyone was black with coal dust. We combined with Swedish and Danish teams to try and shake off Christoff but did not succeed - at least we tried. Stan moved up to 2^nd place at 6min 32secs with Frenchman Boudon 3^rd at 8min 46secs.

The stadium where the race finished was the same cinder heap of 2 years previous, but what a transformation, it had seats for 80,000 people and all broadcasting, newspaper and TV technical equipment. A park had been laid and also overhead cable cars linking to Katowice City. A complete transformation from 1955. Our accommodation was at Nowy Huta a new town not far from the historic walled city of Cracow. Alan Jackson had to retire to-day suffering from acute saddle boils.

Stage 11 - Katowice-Lodz 215km - The Swedes, Danes and the DDR Teams attacked us and the Bulgarians to try to win the race on this penultimate day. As this was a comparatively flat stage there was a large bunch finish, the last few miles to the stadium was over the dreaded sea-bed boulder road, general class remained the same with Christoff being 6min 32secs up on Stan with Prusti (Poland) jumping up to 3^rd at 9min 59secs. We were in the same hotel as 1955 and Stan had all the adulation when he appeared on the balcony, we were happy to bask in his glory.

Stage 12 - Lodz-Warsaw 140km - Nothing much to report about this final stage, normally as last stages go - nobody wanted to know. Tscherepowich (URRS) won the stage in the magnificent stadium near the river, from Wieckowski Poland 2^nd and Kapitanow 3^rd. (Kapitanow was to win the gold road race medal in the Rome Olympics 1960) Christoff was winner overall with Stan 2^nd at 6min27secs and Kapitanhow (USSR) 3^rd at 11min37secs. Our team were a creditable 6^th 46min39secs behind DDR. Owen Blower was 19^th overall, Dick McNeil (winner of Quaker Oats Tour Britain), Karl Goff and Jimmy Rae all finished with credit. On our return to London we were actually met by a crowd of well wishers, which was a lovely welcome home. All I could say was - “Very good luck and all the best for the future”

On return to England I sent “Thank You” letters to the British Hub Company for hubs, Cyclo Gear Company Ltd for Mk12 gears, (I was amazed how this gear had stood up to the conditions). I also wrote to Gerry Burgess for the supply of new brakes and spares. The shop was prospering, the staff had really been working hard. I took them all out for dinner on my return.

That tour was my only trip in 1957 owing to business being so good (should not grumble at that) Johnny Dennis who had been our very able Manager, tried to keep this team together but on his appointment to editor of a new cycle magazine he was unable to continue.

#060 - 1957 - Peace Race - Stage 1 - 5

2008-03-12T14:45:00.004Z

Stage 1 - Prague- Brno 224km - On the first day our team set off in fine style, Jimmy Rae just getting beat on the line finishing in 3^rd place, Stan, Owen and Dick McNeil were chasing in the leading group only 25secs back, this was quite a long stage, England were 2^nd Team to the Poles at 49secs with the Belgian at 1min 11secs, a good start for us and no mechanical problems. Accommodation and food in Brno backed by the methodical Czech organisation, was as usual first rate.

Stage 2 - Brno to Tabor 177km. - We worked well as a Team, Stan winning the sprint on the cinder track at Tabor and the Team won the daily prize, Stan was holding 2^nd place overhaul, he being 27sec behind Christoff (Bulgaria) with Van Tongerloo (Belgian) 3^rd 1mim08secs, England were 2^nd in overall 48secs behind Poland with the Belgians 3^rd at 2min 18secs. Food and accommodation were again top class - they always were in Czkoslovakia.

A little background information about feeding arrangements:

Everyone is given a menu for the duration of the race. The Team Manager is given the list of Menu’s with three choices for each meal, which were Breakfast, (light) lunch before a stage, and the evening meal plus any special food during race, and drinks of course. Ideally, the Team Manager would choose the meals with the help of all the team, it is after all very important. Also each rider and official was given a book of tickets for breakfast, lunch and dinner and drinks, the Restaurants were then able to get paid on production of the tickets. The system worked well so long as the rider brought his ticket, because the waiters would not serve you even if only one of your party had left his book in his room. By the time I became Team Manager I had experience of the chaos that this could cause if not well managed, and I decided to take full charge of all my team’s books – we had no further problems with riders not having their tickets!

Stage 3 - Tabor to Prague 160km.- We rode quite well in this stage Stan again picking up early primes, all the team finished in a big group some 5min 36secs down on the stage winner Christoff (Bulgaria). On the stage we were 3^rd in the team and on general class we were in the lead from France by 3min 06secs, 3^rd Belgium at 9min 08secs.

Stage 4 - Prague to Karl Ovey Vary 174km - Owen Blower punctured on this stage but after slick change of wheels he was soon back in the group, Proost (Belgium) won the stage putting him 2^nd on general class behind race leader Christoph (Bulgaria). We were still holding General Class leading team into Karlovy Vary and it was so satisfying to see England in the blue ‘team leaders’ jerseys, the first time since 1952. At last the preparation at the training camp in Wales was beginning to pay off. Another good day for us and we were in high spirits being very satisfied by our efforts during the first four days We were back at the Continental 1^st class Hotel which also added to the high morale. The weather changed for the worse, temperatures falling bringing rain.

On the rest day I had risen early to work on the bikes for a few hours, we had all been invited to visit a Crystal Manufacturer. The staff entertaining us, we were all presented with some exquisite cut glass. After we came back from the Crystal Glass works, we went down to the warehouse where the prizes were kept. Stan’s stage win prize at Tabor was a motor cycle. The chaps in charge of the prizes unpacked this and put in petrol – and I was up the road on it no time, Stan was able to sell this machine on his return home to Liverpool.

The team had a small workout in the evening then in to dinner with a super orchestra playing Glenn Miller and this music relaxed us all. We were soon in to our routine.

Stage 5 - Karlovey Vary to Karl Marx Stadt (Chemnitz) 140km - This stage took us over the mountains and we had a disastrous day, punctures abounded, the Germans, Russians and Poles attacked us taking with them the race leader Christoff (Bulgaria). Although our Team got together they lost 10mins+. The team classification was lead now by France leading Poland by 5min 56secs with Belgium at 8min 42secs, we had taken a right pounding and there was some glum faces that night. John Dennis pulled them round at the race meeting after dinner, getting good plans set for the next day we hoped for some better fortune but none was to come. The weather changed to snow and ice which did not help.

#059 - 1957 - Peace Race

2008-03-12T14:27:00.002Z

Early in 1957 I received an invitation to go on the Peace Race which would start in Prague, the team was to be:

Stan Brittain,
Owen Blower,
Dick McNeil,
Karl Gough,
Alan Jackson (bronze medallist in the Melbourne Olympics)
Scotsman Jimmy Rae.

John Dennis was to be Manager, Alan Hodgson masseur and with me as mechanic - I wrote accepting the invite.

Writing to each rider to get particulars I found that all - apart from Stan - had signed up to ride Cyclo Mk12 gears and G.B. brakes. Stan rode Simplex 543 gear mechanism and G.B.brakes, they had either 5 or six freewheels, I insisted that they all ride 6speed. Cyclo Gear Company sent me a supply of gear parts, GB helping with a spares kit for the brakes (John Dennis was their Sales Manager at the time).

Stan had arranged a training camp in Wales and the team were to stay at a cottage owned by Eddie Soens, it was situated right off the A5 in hills near Llangollen. I went along one afternoon/evening looking over the bikes so to have all the necessary tools and spare parts to meet any mechanical problem. I knew Owen and Stan but had not met Dick McNeil, Karl Gough or Jimmy Rae, so this was a good opportunity to chat with these three and so form a good comradeship before we met at Heathrow Airport. My young nephew Alan came with me on this 180 mile journey for company - little did we know that 45 years hence he would be mechanic for English amateur teams going to Seoul Olympics and commonwealth games in Perth, Australia (then to fall out with the BCF as I did in 1971).

I knew things were going to be different because when we met up at Heathrow the bikes were stripped and ready to be put aboard the aircraft. British European Airways were now flying in to Prague, gone for us was the old Mk1 Dakota. We arrived OK in Prague, staying at a new hotel - the Continental. I did the usual job on the bikes, making all wheels interchangeable, most were on Airlite hubs, quick release of course. The Q/r spindles on these ‘Airlite’ hubs were weak, so I bought 10 sets of Campagnolo spindles from Holdsworth. Carpenter cycles turned these Campag spindles down as they were slightly thick, but we found them much stronger.

Our driver had been changed at the last minute, our old pal Fritz being taken ill but his replacement proved to be just as good. Doctor Slavic of the Czech National Team met us at the Airport, we had made great friends with him in previous years, and this friendship and help lasted for many years. His knowledge of French, German, Russian and of course English was extensive, (He was eventually to practice in the University Teaching Hospitals in Glasgow and Nottingham).

We went out training the two days before the start mostly by the side of the River Moldau taking in the road as the first stage towards Brno, I think Stan was checking the prime towns, he was to win most of them in two days time

#058 - 1957 - Lake District

2008-03-12T14:22:00.001Z

In the winter of 1957 brother-in-law Keith and I had a long weekend in the Lake District and again we stayed with Mrs Edmunds at Walloway Farm. On this particular day we had a leisurely large breakfast then drove to Keswick leaving the car at Seathwaite. We set off up the Langtrath crossing the stream in the valley to make our way up Bow Fell. We had broken every rule in the ‘fell walking’ book that day,

1) we had not told Mrs Edmunds or anyone else where we were going,

2) we set off too late in the day

3) we had no provisions other than a light lunch

4) No compass or torch

The only thing we had got right was our clothing and boots.

We climbed Bow Fell and ate our packed lunch at Angle Tarn, we then continued to Eskhause – our intention being to go to Buttermere but we somehow finished up hopelessly lost on Scarfell Pike. We had earlier seen a lone walker crossing a stream and we called to each other exchanging cordial greetings, we were to read in the local paper a couple of days later that a man – a doctor - had died on that day, lost the same as us. From the description given we realised that it was the same man we had called to!!

By now it was almost dark, we followed the stone cairns but even then we seemed to be going round in circles, we eventually found ourselves back at Angle Tarn, and in the distance we could see the large well lit window – shining like a beacon for fools such as us - at the Dungeon Gill Hotel. We came down Rossett Gill which was no mean task at night. We walked in the pub where - without a word - some walkers we had seen descending hours ago, bought us double rum each, we had two more rums then we rang Mrs Edmunds who obviously was out of her mind. It was now past 9 p.m.

Mr Edmunds set off on the long drive over the Kirkstone pass, through Ambleside and so on to the Dungeon Gill Hotel where he picked us up, drove to Keswick and on to Seathwaite to pick up our car. When we got back to the farm a full dinner was ready for us as well as pewter pots filled with whiskey and waiting for a red hot poker to be inserted. How well they treated us, I stayed in bed the next day as I had damaged by knee badly (again).We did walk the day after but on the flat this time to the beautiful village of Whatendleth, only walking up to view the memorial and the panoramic setting of wonderful Derwent Water. We sat for a while contemplating what might have been and how damned lucky we were not to be – at least – injured or at worst deceased! We had more respect next time............

The gymnasium class was still successful, in fact so many coming we had to run two classes, one at Roper School and one at the Secondary Modern. We also had a good basket ball team and we challenged Long Eaton basket ball team to a match. We easily beat them and the poor sports would not play us again, they did not fancy being beaten by a load of cyclists.

#057 - 1956 - Tour of Sweden

2008-03-12T13:57:00.006Z

In August 1956 I was invited to go on the “Tour of Sweden”. The team was made up of:

Stan Brittain,
Owen Blower,
Doug Collins
Peter Ward

The team manager was Johnny Dennis and he was the best manager I was to go with. We left by train from St Pancras then on to Tilbury where we boarded a Swedish-Lloyd boat bound for Gothenburg. The voyage took one and half days. Stan did not travel with us as he was riding in the “Star” race in Copenhagen (he won this).. We had a talk on board ship regards tactics for the forthcoming race. Pete Ward saying we would be O.K. when we got to Orebro as his wife would meet us there and would be able to wash bottles and assist etc. I dismissed this at the time thinking I was hearing wrong, as it was unknown for wives or girlfriends to accompany their partners on cycle races. We eventually landed at Gutenberg transferred to a modern electric train to Varberg where we boarded a small steam train with an observation car, which we enjoyed enormously. We stayed in marvellous accommodation at a hotel in the woods. Food was good too and we had venison for dinner that evening.

The next day we had smorgasbord breakfast which was first class, I had risen early about 5.30am to sort the bikes out, i.e. making wheels interchange etc. The team went out training thro this marvellous scenery, a Finnish masseur joined us in Varberg, his name was Arne Ludgren, and he had won a medal in Helsinki Olympics for walking. What a fabulous man he was, he did everything for the rider, with John Dennis being a good manager and me on the bikes we looked forward to a good Tour.

The race was run over six days starting in Philipstadt then round the lakes embracing Husqvarna, Motala and Orebro then up to the university town of Uppsala to finish in the Olympic Stadium in Stockholm. With two days to go and Stan leading the race, the rest of the field (all Scandinavians) attacked Stan in to Uppsala putting him back to 4^th place. We had lost Pete Ward in Orebro – he had come down heavily in the tram lines and unfortunately breaking his arm. He had on previous days helped Stan by working with Owen and Doug to protect Stan’s lead.

We stayed in a super Motel in Uppsala, we mechanics working all together in one garage, I was invited to have a drink with them after our work was completed, and they commiserated at the way Stan had been ‘worked over’. Out came the schnapps and we had a great night. The last day was a Time Trial finishing in the Olympic Stadium, Stan rode the race of his life pulling up to 3^rd place. (the race winner was so ashamed of the way he had won that he bought Stan an expensive leather jacket in recompense. Stan was to get ‘even’ the following year by winning the race).

Pete Ward and his wife, who had caught up this us in Orebro and had accompanied Pete to hospital following his crash, went on ahead to Stockholm to our allocated hotel. When we reached the hotel John Dennis and I found we were in a small room, we thought this was strange. We then found out that Pete and his wife had taken our room, John blew his top and soon had things changed round. Before returning to England we spent the day in Stockholm going across to the farm museum called Skansen, everyone and everything going back 100 years.

We left by train for Gothenburg then by boat to Tilbury, saying a sad goodbye to Arne who went north to Helsinki.

There was plenty of work to catch up with on my return, quite a few pairs of wheels to build and also gaining in popularity were motorcycle wheels with Dunlop and Fiamme rims. Special self-built “Triton” motorcycles had become popular - i.e. Triumph 650cc engines with Norton “Featherbed” frames and “Road holder Forks” and so the demand for Norton and Triumph parts grew rapidly, necessitating several trips to the “works”.

#056 - 1956 - Tour of Ireland

2008-03-12T13:53:00.001Z

In 1956 I was asked manage a local NCU team on the “Tour of Ireland” I was able to accept as now - with business prospering - we had set on a salesman, Roy Pidcock, he was a trial and grass rider and we had helped in a few events. (Roy would stay with us until July 1971 when he left to start up on his own at Friary Autos on The Spot in Derby, he worked very hard eventually becoming Roy Pidcock Motorcycles which now have shops in Nottingham, Derby and Long Eaton, he unfortunately suffered a serious heart attack and died in 1999. Roy’s son now runs the three shops).

The team was

Stuart McWhirter,
Pete Edgehill, (Beeston R.C.)
Bren Thorpe and
a lad from Mansfield whose name alludes me,

Dave Shaw came as mechanic. I cannot remember much about this tour except I was on a 500cc Triumph with alloy engine and rear sprung hub, but I do remember that a few days into the race, there was an all mighty “tip up” which resulted in Stuart McWhirter breaking his arm and Frank Garvey of Manchester Velo breaking a leg. We made arrangements to get Stuart back to Dublin and then we had to leave him in Athlone hospital. We also assisted Frank - his team manager had left him to his own devices.

Also on the Cork stage, the NCU rang the Irish Cycle Union to say that Brian Haskell of Huddersfield R.C. had not got a NCU Overseas racing licence, and would have to be disqualified. The race had only two days to go and Brian was leading from the Cork rider Karl McCarthy. After dinner in Cork there was a meeting regarding this matter, Brian had a BLRC licence and as far as he and the Irish Cycle Union was concerned this was valid. But much to my disgust Brian was disqualified, 2^nd place Karl McCarthy and several highly placed riders withdrew in protest. A noble but useless gesture.

We carried on but had lost all interest. There was one amusing or rather a serious incident. Dave and I were going up to a breakaway group to find out what lead they had, just before Sligo we saw John Lackey go straight on through Sligo whereas the race route was to bypass the town, John would be about 30secs behind the leaders, the next time we saw him was when he was coming towards this group, turning round in the road and joining in. He finished 1^st.

Many other riders protested and in the Team Managers meeting after the meal, Dave and I gave our report, it appeared that John Lackey came from Sligo and the route he took cut about 3mile from the main route! The Irish officials got together and after loud protests from the Irish team manager, John Lackey was able to keep his first prize but was quite rightly disqualified from the Tour. The Irish team withdrew from the event, the whole thing had gone sour I was glad to get on the boat and get home.

My own racing had almost drawn a close, my future seemingly mapped out looking after a successful business and going on various tours with the England team. In hindsight I can see I was away to often which did not do the business much good, International cycling is like a disease – or an addiction - you cannot leave it alone, and I was to be on various tours for the next 20 years.

#055 - 1955 - Peace Race - Official Duties

2008-03-12T13:39:00.001Z

Resume of each officials job (as I see them).

Mechanic Duties.

Drive and clean the team car, this includes small service jobs. Check fuel and oil (not part of a mechanics duties on the Peace Race but on some events).
Before the start, check over all cycles, tighten all nuts and bolts, brake lever bolts and gear ends. Make sure all wheels are true and interchange with all team bikes including the spare bike.
After the stage, take a verbal list from rider of any mechanical problems he has encountered.
Thoroughly wash bikes especially tyres.

5 When bikes are dry, check all nuts and bolts and true-up wheels, remove wheels to clean, re-adjust q/r mechs if required. Put on stand and try out gears, if front gear changer is catching, try bike on road having a screwdriver at the ready for fine adjustments. Check chain for any tight links.

Clean, oil and polish bike.
In the morning before ‘start’, check tyres for any cuts or abrasions and change tyres if required (this has to be done outside in daylight).
Hand bike to rider to try out.
Do any adjustments they require.
Get the car ready with spares wheels, especially getting q/r ready for quick wheel change.
Make sure spare bike or bikes are OK, especially that tyres are inflated.
Have necessary tools for quick repairs if needed.
When trouble occurs try to remain cool (do not transfer any anxieties to rider)

Masseur.

Arrange rider’s medical, assure blood group recorded.
Clean riders shoes, wash vests and socks; have eye baths, sponge and eau de cologne ready after stage, have a new vest ready if rider wins stage. Do complete body massage from toe to head, (usually on Peace Race three before meal and three after), tend to any medical problems, if serious alert Race Doctor.
Have spare crash helmet in car.
Make sure riders have packed their bags and slid them in special sack provided, before they go to bed and leave outside door (very important on

Peace Race)

Do light massage in morning, and make sure rider takes both early breakfast and light lunch before stage.
Prepare race food and drinks for rider to carry. If feeding station on a long stage, prepare feeding bags and have one extra in case some rider misses out. If raining make sure legs are massaged lightly with iodine oil.
Make sure you do not miss Team Coach which takes you to next stage town (Unless you are travelling in Team Car) When stage town is reached make sure riders baggage is in their room, check room numbers and put up a list in Foyer so rider knows which room he is in.
Usually rooms are for two riders do rota to move riders around.
Make sure you are at the finish of stage getting riders track suit bags from the team car so rider can don his Track suit and slippers.
Collect washable items (Laundry on Peace Race).
Go back to Hotel with early riders so massaging can be started after showers

Team Managers

Make sure that officials picked by racing committee are capable of doing job allocated.
Write to each rider advising what to take with them.
Try and get a meeting together of riders and officials so to have ideas and form of riders and officials.
Before race check menu’s for the next fortnight, with riders and other officials of the team. (essential on the Peace Race)
Work out with all, the distribution of prize money won, discuss with riders the report you may send to BCF after the race, so that if a rider sacrifices himself for another this is accurately reported.
Hopefully have a basic knowledge of mechanics and massage in case of emergency.
Liase with masseur or even give help in the washing and preparing of bottles and race food, make sure you have Milton to thoroughly clean bottles, make sure you have good supply of bottles (supplied on Peace Race).
Make sure spare crash hat is in car.
Collect all riders bags (containing Track Suits and slippers).
Try and keep moral of riders high and discuss tactics with them.
Attend promptly to all Team Manager meetings and quickly give any information to riders and other officials.
Although some socialising is necessary with other managers or officials, keep to a minimum, as it does not make for good moral in the team.
Make sure you rehearse your ‘bike change drill’ , this is very important.
Make sure you give riders instructions as to which side of the road you are to hand up food, leaving one official at the far end of zone with an emergency bag.
Co-ordinate all official jobs make sure they are doing their job smoothly.

#054 - 1955 - Peace Race - Finish

2008-03-12T13:12:00.002Z

After a day or two in Warsaw where we were entertained by the British Embassy, we packed all our bags and bikes and early one morning we were coached to the Airport, we were surprised to see we were travelling on the same MK1 Dakota made under licence in Russia. No luggage was weighed and as well as us there were the Belgians and French and all the souvenirs and prizes we had won. The plane tried to take off on the concrete runway but could not make it. The pilot then took the plane to a far corner and, bumping on the grass to get up and over the runway, finally managed to take off. On landing at Berlin a tyre burst, good job we had stopped, we were in the Airport about an hour before we left for Brussels, everyone on the plane was scared stiff. Two of our team who were in the RAF were airsick!! We left Brussels on a Sabena aircraft it seemed like heaven.

Arriving at London we had hell of a job with the customs owing to our having the gold wrist watches, luckily about a week before Wolverhampton Football Club were in from Moscow where they had been given similar gold watches but which had been impounded by customs. This matter had been raised in Parliament and the team had been allowed their watches. We announced this precedent and after much wrangling we were allowed to keep ours. I had swapped a Campag front and rear for a new Praktica single lens reflex camera fitted with F2 lens Ziess. No one had seen one of these in England and I had a job to understand it. We also had Zorki and Fed cameras, these were copies of the famous 35mm Leica , made under licence in Russia.

My personal observations of this race were - On the better side I had made umpteen friends but how hard it was on the mechanics, in fact I vowed not to go on it again. How we had to have two hammers to knock the dents out of rims as the roads in parts were made from seabed boulders, this road was especially bad in Poland just before the stadium finish, the Germans called these roads cat head shape boulders. A pal of mine Derek Robinson (we were on the ill fated “Tour of Eire” together) made a tool to make oval wheels round again, it was like a micrometer and was really efficient. He later also made me a bike stand that fitted on top of my toolbox, it was so good that Eddy Merck’s mechanic wanted to buy it – the reason being that our toolbox was totally portable and with it’s collapsible stand could go in our team car boot, (I still have it!) but their large stand and box had to be sent on the night before.

After we had been back in England a few weeks the NCU sent me an invite to go as Team Manager to the “Tour of Nine Provinces” in Belgium, but with such a back log of work in the shop to catch up with I had to refuse. 12 years was to pass before I was asked to manage a Team again - this was to be the 1967 “Circuit Sarthe” in France. This is quite another eventful story which will appear shortly.

#053 - 1955 - Peace Rest - Rest Day 2 and Stage 10 - 13

2008-03-12T13:06:00.002Z

The next day was a ‘Rest Day’, Luton Town was playing DDR and in the afternoon we were invited to the match and meet the team, I went alone as no one else was interested. (That same year Luton was in the Cup Final losing against Nottingham Forest at Wembley). The next day some mail had arrived from England for the Luton team but they had already left for England, the mail was handed to me for delivery. I posted this mail to Luton when I got home, receiving a thank you letter from the Chairman.

In the morning the team were invited to a brewery making vodka, the office staff again making a fuss of us, and they gave us each a bottle of slivowitz and other presents.

Stage 10 – Zgorzellex – Breslau (Wroclaw) 174km

We were taken by coaches to the start at Zgorelex. We were appalled at the lower living standard in Poland, but they had to live frugally as their government had refused “Marshall Aid” and they were having to rely on the Russians to bolster their economy.. An attack was instigated by the French, Czechs and Germans, Veseley Schur and Van Louveren being the first three, Stan and Owen losing 2mins on this breakaway group. Race leader now being Schur from Vesely at 1min 21sec, with Stan still 3^rd at 6min 01sec. Considering our depleted team Stan and Owen were riding very well.

The Russians had occupied Breslau at the latter end of the war and even 10 years later there were no stoppers in the sinks or baths, Breslau was very badly damaged as Hitler had made it a fortress, it was bypassed by the Russians taking weeks before it surrendered.

Whilst having dinner at Breslau an opera singer came to see me saying he had relations in Long Eaton, unbelievably this relation was none other than Tadeux who worked for me as a motorcycle mechanic; originally from Lvow (which is now in Russia), he with a number of other Poles had escaped through Romania to Iran and then flown to Scotland where they were enlisted in the RAF. He came to work for me in 1948, the opera singer was overjoyed, he gave me further news of my mechanics family which was passed on to Tadeux on my return to England. The opera singer had bought tickets for that evenings performance and it was a great shame that we could not go as the Opera house in Breslau is quite famous, but we could not be spared - the race being to important.

Stage 11 - Breslau to Stalinograd (Katowice) 200km

this went through all the coalmining and heavy industrial belt, the riders were black with soot and so were we in the open car. A small group of riders down on general classification, broke away with Van dan Daile (Belgium) from Geogief (Bulgaria) with Nyman (Finland) 3^rd. Schhur lead the race with Yan Vesely 2^nd at 1min 31secs with

Stan still 3^rd at 6min 11secs. The riders finished on a banked cinder track. The people of Katowice were building a new stadium and I was to go back there in 1967 to find it finished, a park laid with overhead railway and lovely laid out gardens. The stadium was as good as Wembley (Manchester United had played there earlier that year in the European Cup).

During the stage Kapitanow of Russia had been away on his own for miles but when we caught up with him he was off his bike and he packed because he was frozen and black as night with the coal dust and Cupola dust. (Kapitanow was to win gold in Rome in 1960)

Stage 12 - Stalinograd – Lodz 205km

The Germans again combined with the French and Poles to attack Stan and Vesely Schur won the stage from Klich (Czech) with the Pole Krolak 3^rd. Jan Vesely still retained 2^nd place but lost 5mins. Stan lost his 3^rd place to Amell (Sweden) by 1 second. Owen was 20^th on general. We stayed in good accommodation in Lodz, the rooms where we stayed had balconies and our rooms faced the front, there were thousands of people outside all chanting for the English riders especially Stan. It was if we were royalty and absolutely unbelievable.

Stage 13 Lodz – Warsaw 130km.

The last stage - the Belgians combined with the Czechs to form a small break, this finished about 3mins on the main group which contained the leaders, Stan managed to finish a few seconds in front of the Swede Amell, and this gave Stan his super 3^rd place overhaul, Owen also gained a place finishing a creditable 19^th place.

The finish was held at the big football stadium near the river, there must have been well over a hundred thousand people there. Our stay was in the largest Hotel in Warsaw i.e. Hotel Warszawa. I was able to go for a ride with the team to sightsee in Warsaw, Stan asked a Polish chap to take a photo of us outside of the Russian built magnificent Palace of Culture with Stan’s “Brownie” box camera and did this fellow laugh! we also found an International Press Office where we were able to obtain press photographs of our participation in the Peace Race.

#052 - 1955 - Peace Race - Stage 5 - 9

2008-03-12T13:03:00.004Z

Stage 5 - Karlovy Vary to Dresden 175km,

We performed well on this stage winning the team award being only 9secs behind Bulgaria. Stan still held the “jersey” from Verhelst of Belge and 3min 09sec with Yan Vesely Czech 3^rd at 3min31sec with Schur close up 4^th & 3min42secs. Some miles before the finish at Dresden the weather changed very cold and raining , this added to the misery of miles of damage carried out by allied air forces in Feb 1942 and made us feel very depressed, coupled with the fact that Ray Booty and fallen heavily in the lager city of Zwickau, and in Dresden with muddied spectacles, he came off no less than 5 times in the tram lines.

The only building that did not seem to be damaged was our hotel. Bill Shilibeer our masseur issued us with vitamin pills every day , Bill Baty was not a believer in these and I remember him in Dresden - when I entered his and John Pound room to hear of any bike complaints, he had lined these pills on the outside window sill and was flicking them in to the street below saying after every flick, “This is doing me the world of good”, later on after dinner I entered their room again and he was lowering a quarter pound bar of Cadburys milk chocolate on to the street below, just as some kids appeared to pick it up he pulled the cord, he did however give the kids this chocolate in the end. We all realised that chocolate, oranges and bananas were in short supply at this particular time in Dresden.

Stage 6 - Dresden to Karl –Marx-Stadt (now Chemnitz) 103km

An early attack was instigated by Schur and the Belgians, this was neutralised by Stan and Owen - the team being sadly depleted with the loss of Ray Booty and Ron Jowers. John Pound and Bill Baty were gallant in their efforts but both were well off the back. Stan still had the yellow jersey having 2min 44sec on the Belgian Verhelst, 3^rd being Jan Veseley of the Czech Republic with 3min 06secs and Schur was 4^th at 3min 17secs,

Stage 7 - Karl-Marx-Stadt to Leipzig 206km

saw our depleted team attacked by a combine of teams i.e. D.D.R with Schur, the Belgians with Verhelst and also the Russians made their belated attack with Werscinin, Stan lost the yellow jersey which he had held for four days. The rest day was held in Leipzig, all I remember of that was the training run in the afternoon. A visit to a camera manufacturer was held in the morning where we were well entertained by the office staff, we also received presents of gold wrist watches and Ziess opera glasses (we were to subsequently have trouble with the English customs as will be told later).

Stage 8 - Leipzig to the capital Berlin. 200km

The crowds to see this stage were just unbelievable, on the corners going through Potsdam. Russian soldiers were sitting on the kerb, our German driver almost running over their toes and he laughed his head off at this antic. Owen Blower and Stan Brittain were in the leading group of eight going down Stalin Alee which had me standing on the back seat of our open car feeling proud as a peacock. The Germans had three riders in the break so they worked our lads over Funda (DDR) winning the event. Schur, although he was not in the leading group became race leader having 4min 18secs on second place Stan Brittain, Owen also moved up on general classification. Our German driver Fritz got in to terrible trouble with the race top brass, he had driven right round the stadium at the back of the main group, but for us in the car it was terrific. the cheers for us sending ripples up our backs, 100,000 was the crowd which included the government with the Premier Gottwaldoff. The accommodation in Berlin was in a school very basic, we always seemed to have bad accommodation after 200km stages .

Stage 9 – Berlin - Cottbus 126km

a shorter stage took us towards Poland, the Czech team had attacked with the Poles and Russians which gave Jan Veseley 2^nd place behind the winner Tave Schur at 1min 51secs - Stan was still 3^rd at 4min 18secs. Owen was riding well as were John and Bill.

After a meal in Cottbus we walked across to Poland, border guards and custom officers were bristling with guns, barbed wire seemed everywhere. The border split a large town the border being a bridge over the Oder, so much for the Potsdam agreement, one could see Atlee, Roosevelt and Stalin looking at a map and coming up with this mad idea of the Oder Niesse rivers marking the border between Germany and Poland. How the split population must have suffered. The name of the same town in Poland was called Gorlitz. I cannot remember much about Gorlitz apart from the fact I now had only four bikes to service.

#051 - 1955 - Peace Race - Rest Day 1

2008-03-12T12:58:00.001Z

Next day was rest day and the team were invited to the famous crystal factory in Karlovey Vary, I stayed at the hotel to do the bikes ready for the team to go out training in the afternoon. Whist I was going down the big marble staircase on the red carpet, two Russians were coming towards me, when they were level with me they parted grabbing me under the elbows and carried me back up the two flights of stairs, turned left at the top undid a bedroom door and flung me in a chair. These were the first Russians I had had the pleasure of meeting and with all the wrong stories that were going about then, I was a little apprehensive to say the least, however I remained calm.

The small fat Russian (who I learned later was the masseur) produced a big wood crate which was supposedly a container for bike spares, he bashed the crate open and low and behold it contained Vodka, the Russians and another mechanic by the name of Sevette, produced half pint glasses which he filled to the brim, pushing one in to my hand, I thought I had better drink the vodka at one gulp, I did whereupon the Russians clapped me on the back and stuffed half a lemon in my mouth.

These two Russians were to be my mates for ever after, meeting up with them in races all over the world. I stayed with them for about an hour, how I managed to do the bikes I will never know, I was on automatic pilot. The team went out in the afternoon, it was a lovely day and the scenery was marvellous. We had made a real friend of our German driver - a policeman living in Frankfurt on Oder, he was a real part of our team, Stan Brittain giving him a share of the prizes in Warsaw. When the team got back from the Crystal Factory they give me my present, a marvellous vase which was the same as the stage winners were presented with. On the Peace Race, factories sponsor a team and the rider who is first on general class gets the ‘best’ factory.

#050 - 1955 - Peace Race - Stage 1 - 5

2008-03-12T12:50:00.004Z

Stage 1 - Circuit of Prague 120 km

On this first stage i.e. circuit of Prague, Stan Brittain finished 2^nd just beaten by a Belgian rider Boeke, and with a rider we would hear much more about – one Gustaf Adolf Schur 3^rd. The rest of the team finished in the main group.

Stage 2 – Prague - Brno 175km

Stan won two early primes, then Bill Baty on going over a level crossing smashed his rear wheel, I gave him a spare bike which must have been Ray Booty’s because Bill always related later that he had to ride thro the frame because the saddle was to high. Clearly Bill had an unsuitable bike, and I quickly put a new wheel in his bike and as soon as possible swapped bikes again. I was learning the hard way, ( I tried everyone on the spare bikes later that night ensuring which bike would suit them if and when the occasion arose). The second stage was won by that tall Czech Kubr, from Verhelst (Belgian) and third was a rider we were get to know in future tours Christoff of Bulgaria, Stan was 3^rd on general classification. By the second night I had got my act together and had worked out a routine on the bikes, this routine I carried out the same for the next 13 years as a mechanic.

Stage 3 - Brno to Tabor 175km.

Stan with Ray Booty, Owen Blower and big Ron Jowers finished in a small group containing the race leader, John Pound and Bill Baty had missed the break. Stan was leading the race from Jan Veseley of the Czech Republic & with Tshischikow of the Soviet Union at 2min 54secs. My routine for the bike was going O.K we had no mechanical trouble and no punctures

Stage 4 - Tabor to Karlovey Vary 215km.

Stan Brittain, Owen Blower, Ray Booty and Ron Jowers rode well even though Ron packed up through a gross error by our team manager (Arthur Spurgin or “Bruno” as he was nicknamed) Ron had been detailed to go with the first break and he carried out his instruction to the letter, this break had 9 minutes at one time, I suggested to Bruno that we should go and have look at Ron, leaving the Dutch team manager Brum Koopman to look after Stan, Owen and Ray, (Bill Baty and John Pound were further back with the Indians). It would be about twenty mile to go before “Bruno” decided to check up on Ron, and we had a job with the commisaire who wouldn’t allow us to go past the main group. (“Bruno” had upset him day before). We found Ron in a dry ditch – he had ‘packed’ and was waiting to be picked up. He was still 3 – 4 minutes up on the main group, and no advice or encouragement from me would get him back on his bike. One of his problems was that the food handed up to him at the feeding station did not suit him, he had strong likes and dislikes and we had his special food with us in the car, which we hadn’t been able to get to him at the appropriate time. This rider packing was a big blow to us, Ron was a good rider, all he required was a bit of psychology but “Bruno” was beyond such technique. Stan, Owen and Ray finished in the leading group which unusually was an open road sprint, most other finishes being on cinder tracks.

Karlover Vary is a beautiful place, our accommodation was in the Hotel Moscow Pupp where earlier this century King Edward V11 had stayed with the Kaiser. The bedrooms were real luxury with marvellous ceilings and the baths had gold taps. In the large dining room a 100 piece orchestra was playing Glen Miller music, it really was magic. Earlier in the day a Rumanian rider had broken his gear cable. His team car was far ahead, so we lent him our spare bike, and I leaned over the back of our car and fitted a new cable then, racing ahead, gave the Rumanian his bike back. Little did I know that the race authorities gave a special prize to the mechanic who helped another team and I proudly won a piano accordion and a vase, plus being presented with a bronze medal and accompanying certificate. Stan was still holding the yellow jersey by 1min11secs from the Czech rider Krivka with Vesely 3^rd at 1min32secs from Schur 4^th & 2min58secs.

#049 - 1955 - Peace Race - Start

2008-03-12T12:41:00.004Z

The teams had a ceremonial start at a large stadium in Prague. Each team riding one lap with a motorcyclist leading them out with their national flag. The neutralised start was in the stadium, then the start proper came on the outskirts of Prague. Team cars paraded in Country order so our team being Angelski as we were known in Polish were number one, this is a good place to be on the first day because if any rider has trouble you are right with them. (I protested to the B.C.F racing committee when they changed the name to Great Britain in 1959 as this meant our team car would be well down the field.)

The cars were D.D.R police open tourers with an engine as in a SAAB i.e. 3 cylinder two strokes, special racks were fitted to the rear of these cars which held three bikes, all standing upright with a special “quick release mechanism” to remove the bike, I thought they were excellent. On the first stage we had an uneventful day, Stan Brittain finishing second, Owen Blower was just off the leading group, our car leading him down St Wencelas Square where the crowds were at least six deep. I stood on the back seat, clapped then pointed to Owen. The response from the crowd was electric.

The race finished in the stadium and - unique in the Peace Races - each rider had a young student, with the riders number on his back, waiting for him ready to cover the rider with a blanket, also handing his personal bag containing shower kit, slippers and track suit. These students then escorted the rider to the showers, then on to a coach and finally seeing the rider to his hotel room, not leaving him until he was safely ‘delivered’, another excellent idea. These students also made sure that the riders bike was taken to the mechanics special room where all the mechanics tools and equipment had been delivered by separate lorry.

After massage it was time for dinner. Stan suggested that we change in to flannels and blazers etc. we certainly put on a show. Being race mechanic, I spoke to each of my team and asked if they had any anxieties/worries with their bikes and then I also got changed for dinner. This I very soon discovered was a mistake, as when I returned to the mechanics room I found all the other technicians well in front of me, they had a certain routine which was to be the pattern every night – and it didn’t include joining the riders for dinner!.

I tightened every nut and bolt on the bikes having seen the road surfaces, Stan had had trouble with his front changer, it was a Simplex with a Cyclo handlebar end control, I worked on this for hours finally having to remove all the tape from the bars and then found the cable outer to be all kinked, so the inner cable would not change down. Being new on the job I was in hell of a state having had very little if any sleep, I was sharing a room with Bill Shilibeer but I did not see him.

Next morning and ½ hour before the start, the Belgian mechanic who was in the next room came in to me (he had been the mechanic for Sylvere Maes in the previous Tour de France) He tut-tutted that I had not cleaned the bikes, there was no time for me to put this right and I was to hang my head in shame when our bikes were the dirtiest on the start line. I had spent best part of the night making sure that nothing fell off and that the tyres were O.K. (Dunlop Rubber Company had supplied us with 40 x No. 5 road cotton tyres, we were hopping mad when we found the Russians on silk No. 4’s which had been obtained from the England (Melbourne) Olympics Team manager – we speculated how this came about!).

#048 - 1955 - Peace Race - Part 2

2008-03-12T12:33:00.004Z

We had two days training before the start of the Peace Race, well three days really as on May 1^st we all attended the May Day parade, I had done all the bikes over as soon as we arrived, making wheels interchangeable was the hardest part, hub and freewheel spacers being the biggest job. On our second day the team prepared to go out training,

“Why don’t you come with us, we are only going for a steady ride” I was asked. Like a fool I borrowed a tracksuit from that stylist peddler Ron Jowers, got the spare bike out and off we went. I was off the back after the first hill and we were still in Prague. Previously we had arranged to meet on the main road east should anyone get dropped and turn at Lidice. I struggled on my own, in the distance I could see the rest of the team who had halted at a plaque on the side of the road. As I came up to the group Ray Booty shouted –

“That’s for putting me in the tennis courts at Long Eaton Sports 6 years ago!”, he has a memory like an elephant. The plaque they had stopped at was to state that this was the furthest General Patton had got to before he was stopped by Eisenhower; Prague was freed by General Vlassow’s Army, political lunacy. There I go again, right off the subject.

We were riding then in 1955 for Anglettere so our numbers were 1 to 6. The team was:

1. Stan Brittain

2. Owen Blower

3. Ray Booty

4. Ron Jowers

5. Johnny Pound

6. Bill Baty

Stan Brittain came a day later than us due to difficulties getting a Czech visa the authorities thinking his name was propaganda. After the training spin the riders had a massage with Bill Shilliber, no such luxury for me - I fell in the bike room then sorted out whatever problems there were.

The following day was May 1^st. we were taken by coach to St Wencelas Square then into an office on the 3^rd floor where we had a super view of the parade, after the military it became more peaceful, we were there at 8 a.m. and it went on all day - must have stretched miles, contrary to all opinion at that time, we were allowed to go as we pleased and we had a super time. After the parade, medical examinations were carried out, checking heartbeats (Ray Booties heart being the slowest at 45bpm) Blood group was also taken and a gold wrist band supplied with the group engraved, good idea really.

Back at the hotel we had a team talk. On a free ride with the team was the President of the N.C.U. Mr Taylor, presidents of most entered countries were there as this was the first Peace Race under the auspices of the Union Cycliste International. The team had originally been picked by the British League of Racing Cyclists (B.L.R.C) Ron Jowers being the only “league” man there. At the evening meal a rather amusing incident occurred, Ron Jowers had bought with him a bag of special tea. He asked our waiter, using sign language, if he would make him a cup of this special, the waiter eventually came back with three massive jugs full, he had used all the tea which Ron had bought for the whole trip, I have never seen any one so mad, the rest of the team were paralytic with laughter.

The morning after our training session we were invited to a training camp for athletes and we were very honoured to meet Emile Zatopek, the double Olympic gold medal winner at London and Helsinki. He was a good ambassador and showed us all the modern training equipment, he also presented us with Dukla Prague sacks, just right for track suit and slippers.

The night prior to the first stage we were provided with large luggage bags that held our suitcase, this was to prevent any damage. They had to be packed the night before any stage apart from rest days of course, these were labelled with the owners code number and were collected early in the morning and taken by lorry to the next stage and were in your hotel room when you reached there.

Also appointed by the organisers were interpreters, our manager had these running round like the proverbial “flea in a fit” and I was embarrassed. Each country i.e. CZ, DDR and Polska allocated an interpreter to each team and I am quite sure they were very sad to leave the teams at each border point. Some of the interpreters became real friends - especially those who we were to meet up with each year. On arrival in their country they would take over the total care of ‘their’ team, always asking of the whereabouts of riders from previous years - Ian Steel, Bobby Thom, Percy Stallard, Joe Christianson, Frank Garvey, Ian Greenfield, Ted Gerrard and Ted Jones, Ken Jowett, Johnny Welsh, the Liverpool Mercury clown Kenny Hill, Albert Hitchin, Ted Jones, Alfie Newman, Peter Proctor, Les Scales, Norman Shiel, Tiny Thomas, and Johnny Welsh.

#047 - 1955 - Peace Race - Part 1

2008-03-12T12:16:00.003Z

1955 saw me receive an invitation from Arthur Spurgin (Chairman of the N.C.U racing committee who I had met on the Tour of Eire), to go as mechanic to the great East European classic the Prague-Berlin-Warsaw event. The challenge to go was overwhelming but I had trouble with my brother as I would be away from the business from April 30^th to May 18^th .

I was a real novice for an event of this magnitude, on one of my Birmingham trips I visited the Cyclo Gear Company of Aston, two of their mechanics had been on this race some three years previous. On our first meeting they told me on no account to go, “the roads are non existent in parts and the work is horrendous” I was warned, this made me very apprehensive. However when they learned that I had accepted the challenge they gave me a toolbox with special tools for their “Benelux” gears, and a pal of mine an engineer by the name of Jim Jelly, made me a truing stand for wheels which fitted on top of the tool box, so I thought we were all set, I was still bodily fit and was training most mornings at 7am with Dave Booth ( I did not know then that I would not race again due to the time being taken up by trips abroad).

East German, Polish and Czech visa’s were obtained and I set forth first by train to London, and then by taxi with all the equipment plus a spare bike, to the NCU headquarters, where we met the rest of the team. I knew most of the boys having recently ridden in Eire against them, and Ray Booty came from my area. I had a look at the teams bikes and saw that I had not got many spares to cover any eventualities, so I visited Messrs Holdsworthy Factoring Company in Annersley, near Crystal Palace, and bought - at my own expense - a load of gear. We then checked in at London Air terminal and then by coach to Heathrow where we caught a “Sabena” plane to Brussels.

I was seated next to Owen Blower and he said “this our first trip with a England Team and it is up to us to do a good job in our relative spheres". We vowed we would to the best of our ability, little knowing the consequences.

We checked our luggage off at Brussels then sat down on a form outside (the weather being marvellous). Sitting with us was Barbara Lyons daughter, (Ben and Barbara Lyon were well known for their B.B.C. radio programme “Life with the Lyons”), we chatted to her and found she was going to her first singing contract with Radio Luxembourg. We told her where we were heading for and she said

“Your are not going on that are you?” pointing to the far left corner of the Airport to an early Dakota MK1 with Polska Airways written on the side and lace curtains in the windows.

“No” we all chorused “we’ll be going on something better than that”.

How wrong we were, this was our aeroplane and some hours later we were on it, we had no seat belts and the “air hostess” dozed off, I do not know how high we flew but we had a lovely view of the ground, we landed at East Berlin and you could feel the different environment we were in. We took off later from there landing safely at Prague.

The airport compared with Brussels and London seemed dead. Apart from some military planes in the far corner, that’s all there was. We checked the bikes and luggage then found customs wanted to look at everything (what had we come to we thought). A coach eventually arrived and we were put in a very nice clean hotel called the Atlantic. The accommodation was good and surprise, surprise there was a separate hotel room for the bikes, we could not get over our wheeling bikes on red carpets and in to lifts. Unheard of in England.

#046 - 1954 - Tour of Ireland - Part 5

2008-03-12T11:33:00.001Z

On arrival at the finish in Waterford we heard that out of the 140 starters who had left Cork earlier that day only 18 had finished, one Irish lad had thrown his bike over a cliff, we saw riders huddled together with sack bags around them to keep warm whilst waiting for the “Sag” wagon or any other transport that would pick them up.

After the evening meal and a truly appalling day, I got drunk on Irish whiskey, came the next morning and I was very ill - in fact I came to Dublin in the race ambulance. The race was now down to 15 starters, the weather turned to snow and icy cold rain. The race officials decided to neutralise the event until a few miles from the centre of Dublin, whereupon the riders could remove all their waterproof gear and then put on a spectacle for the very large crowd to see the finish. There was a picture in “Cycling” the following Wednesday depicting the “sag” wagon festooned with dozens of bikes hanging from everywhere. (I was to go on a race in Algeria in the future which had similar weather conditions). My trusty Ariel had been driven back to Dublin by an Irishman who I never met, I knew it was on the race because I had heard the lovely engine note of its 498cc motor.

The result of the first 5 of this Tour Eire was:

1^st - Bernard Pusey whose ride in this gave him an entry to the new Hercules team to ride in the Tour de France, under Syd Couzins as manager,

2^nd - Shay Eliott who won as his prize a stay at the famous Simplex training camp which lead to a place in a French team and which subsequently also lead him to a ride in the Tour de France,

3^rd - Karl McCarthy of Cork C.C. a real stylist

4^th - Irishman Paddy Boyd of Dublin.

5^th - Tony Hoar who was to be in the 1955 “Tour de France.

A tearful reception was seen at Mrs Ryan’s, our second home, she looked after us as good as her own family. Bren’s future wife Janet had come over to placate him and us. Bill, Bren and Janet left on the night boat. Fred and I stayed a further day to pull our shattered nerves together.

The shops were very busy that year, motorcycles were becoming a little easier to buy as were scooters. We were still having a “Birmingham-Coventry” and “London” van days increasingly selling more parts. Staff also had to be adjusted, we lost our Polish motor cycle mechanic Ted, and also our veteran cycle mechanic and wheel builder Les Senesall. In their place we had electrician Les Thompson in the shop, he was with us some years before he acquired a “pub” on Cockpit Hill, Derby. On the demolition of all the Cockpit Hill area Les returned to us and was sent to our College Street shop with Ruben Hutchings. We also set on twin brothers Robert & Roger Sanford. Robert being at Tamworth Road and Roger at College Street, I took over cycle wheel building eventually going on to alloy motorcycle and M.G. wheels.

As regards cycle racing I did manage to win three of our club track events, these were the last events I would take part in. We did a storming trade in cycles for Christmas that year, having a great time delivering these, playing Santa Claus, no drink driving laws then so we had a drink at most houses where we were delivering to – not surprisingly we were almost drunk when eventually reaching home.

#045 - 1954 - Tour of Ireland - Part 4

2008-03-12T11:30:00.001Z

The team decided to start the next day as we remarked that would be what Dennis would have wanted. The strange thing was that our remaining three had packed a black vest in their kit and they rode in these. As Derek and I stopped behind to meet Dennis parents, all the other team managers promised Derek and I that they would give every assistance to our team. We met Dennis parents at Cobh station.

Mr & Mrs Weston had quite a story to tell us, the police in Long Eaton helped them with their heartfelt sympathy, arranging all travel details and custom formalities, on the station at Long Eaton two Irish girls by the name of Daly who lived in Nelson Street, were going home to Dublin for two weeks holiday. They befriended the Weston’s, seeing them safe on the boat at Holyhead and also buying them berth tickets to enable them an easy crossing. On arrival at Dun Laughire, the sisters escorted the Weston’s to Dublin, then bought them tickets to Cork and accompanied them both down to Cork, they were real good Samaritans. The Irish Cycling officials were also first class, looking after all hotel and all funeral expenses.

After about half an hour with the Weston’s we bid a very emotional farewell as we had to catch up with “Tour”. Earlier before the start the weather had changed from summer style to just above freezing. One Irish rider had been taken to hospital and advised to stay overnight for suspected sun stroke. He discharged himself to carry on in the race, then on this particular day he was sent to Dublin hospital and admitted with exposure! We had given our spare jerseys to our three riders, leaving us with just our “Barbour” suits - we were so cold, we had to stop at Kilkenny for a rum apiece! At the bar stood an Irish farmer and before we could get to the counter he had bought us two double rums, he refused all payment saying he had never seen anyone so blue in all his born days. We had two more rums before our chase began.

We began to come across team cars loaded with riders who had succumbed to the cold conditions, in one car was our three, they said that they were sorry they had to give up, but not having any gloves they could not apply their brakes. We left them to see who was left in the race, we caught the first small group who wanted a time check on the leaders. We went off to catch the leading group who had 6 minutes on them. We clicked the stop watch then stopped at the end of a farm drive where a small family were awaiting the race, we told them the news. We noticed that the lady in this group kept going back to the farmhouse. I thought she must be fed up of waiting for the rest of the race to go by, but after a few minutes she returned with a tray with coffee and fruit cake for us two Englishmen. What a super gesture, these Irish people are the salt of the earth.

#044 - 1954 - Tour of Ireland - Part 3

2008-03-12T11:27:00.002Z

The 4^th stage took us on the long scenic stage to Killarney, going via Oranmore, Kinvarre to the cliffs of Mohir (pity we could not stop there as these cliffs are the highest in Europe). Then on to Ennis across the Shannon and so on to Limerick, on to Newcastle West, Abbeyfield, Castle Island to finish in beautiful Killarney. In all these towns we encountered large crowds all truly hyped up to see the race, we had good accommodation in Killarney, the communial dinner in the town hall being 1^st class. In the evening Derek and I helped the mechanics, we were both awake at 5am the next morning - we had planned to go round the lakes before breakfast, the weather still being top class. We arrived back at the hotel well in time to join the team for a large breakfast, we were concerned that Dennis Weston had complained of being ill, I administered milk of magnesia and after about 20 minutes he said he felt better. At the “team talk” prior to the race Bill Henshaw as captain, announced they were ready to attack the current leaders, we cautioned Dennis to take his time up Tunnel Gap and at the summit if Dennis was not going well, we would fetch Bren Thorpe back to hopefully re-catch the main group.

The weather and scenery was so good that a pact was reached by every one in the field to “sight-see” as we passed the lakes and start the stage at the foot of Tunnel Gap towards Kenmare. This worked well for us, Dennis only falling back just prior to the summit. On the descent we fetched Bren back to pace Dennis back to the bunch, the descent was quite “hairy” but Dennis and Bren started to overhaul another small group, we on the motorbike telling Dennis not to work, and he took notice of us, so far so good. At the bottom of this descent the Aspro ambulance was going towards Glengarrif. Outside a pub was a farm horse and cart, and the ambulance tannoy system startled the horse which had not been tethered. It bolted towards the main group, who managed to avert any accident, everybody frightened to death. Meanwhile our two riders in the second group were almost “on” to the leaders. Dennis looked up from his position and saw that they were nearly “on”. He passed all the second group and ran head first into the horse and cart impaling himself on the shafts which killed him outright.

Derek had jumped off the moving motorbike and was cradling the fatally injured lad in his arms. After seeing Dennis into the ambulance, Deryck and I sat on a stone wall completely dazed and overcome, the race had stopped for us at that moment..We had to compose ourselves – we had work to do. Derek and I went to the Post Office at Glengarrif and rang the police at Long Eaton for them to convey the sad news to Mr. And Mrs. Weston. Meanwhile the three other members of our team were still riding well, oblivious to the horror that had happened at Glengarrif. We chased at maximum speed so as we would be able to give them the sickening news in a quite spot, luckily we caught them just before Cork and was able to draw them quietly together, but not before Bill and Fred wanted to know in no certain manner were the hell we had been, because of lack of information they had actually finished 3^rd and 4^th and had Dennis finished with them we would have won the team. A very glum team sat down to dinner where every other team in the event came to us with condolences.

#043 - 1954 - Tour of Ireland - Part 2

2008-03-12T11:23:00.002Z

The first day of the “Tour of Eire" started at 10am from Dublin going via Dundalk to Athlone - quite a long stage, I cannot remember any notable instance, our team finishing in a large leading group.

We had the “Tour de France” Aspro ambulance leading the race, very impressive. Manning this ambulance was a doctor on his first bike race. One of the Scottish riders touched a wheel and came down injuring himself, the doctor took one look at the rider and turned to get his well stocked medical kit , when he turned back to the rider, he had got on his bike but was going the wrong way, we - Derek Robison and I - put him on the right road. The doctor was astonished, we told him when this happened again to do a tempory assessment of the injury then tell the rider to come round after the finish of the stage for any major treatment. As we said to the doctor, a bike rider cannot afford to loose any time, extreme injuries being obviously a different matter.

After the first stage finish a large furniture van tipped all our bags on the market square, we collected these then we had to see the accommodation officer to find out where we were staying. Things are a bit different now with bags in your room all labelled and your accommodation listed in the “race bible”. The evening meal was a comunable affair in Athlone town hall.

The second stage was again a long one, going from Athlone to Sligo to Bunduran. On passing Bulbrennan mountain where Keats is buried, the road is dead straight and slightly down hill, on looking at the speedometer I was astonished to see the bunch was travelling at over 50 mph. Just then a bee hit me in the left eye, so had to stop quickly as could not see out of either eye. I was not wearing helmet or goggles it was such a glorious day and we wanted to get brown (helmets were then not compulsory as now). The stage finished on the seafront at Bundoran in Donegal, it is a lovely place with white sands and only a few hotels (I wonder what it is like now).

We did the usual massage and bike checks etc then the evening meal, during the last two days we had made the acquaintance of the race mechanics “Jimmy and Jack” who owned the Rutland Cycle Co in Dublin. On the race they were general mechanics seemingly doing all repairs for most of the riders except our team. That night we went to see them at their quarters, they had got that many bikes to do we stopped and helped. Although I had a cycle shop of my own I learnt more about racing bikes and quick repair of same then and now. This learning zone was to hold good fortune when I was asked to go to the “Peace race” the following year.

My memory does not allow me to remember any of the stage finishes, some of the riders I do remember are - Johnny Pound, Bill Baty, Stan Brittain, Bernard Pusey, Tony Hoar, Vin Denson, Bob Maitland, “Dickie Bowes, Jack Ryan, ‘Sore bones’ Ford, Shay Elliot, and Willy Long. Having not kept any finishing sheets or a diary my memory is not good, although our team was leading the club competion as apposed to National Teams. Dennis Weston was our leading rider with Bill Henshaw and Fred Gascoigne well up. Stage three took us from Bunduran to Tuam then on to Sligo to finish at Galway. The weather was still perfect, more like midsummer than Spring. Wild pansies and primroses adorned the hedgerows - it was truly marvellous.

#042 - 1954 - Tour of Ireland - Part 1

2008-03-12T11:18:00.002Z

March 1954 saw an invite for us to ride the four day “Tour of Ireland” Tom Crowther our 1953 manager decided not to come this year, after a meeting of local clubs a team was picked lead by Bill Henshaw, Bren Thorpe, Dennis Weston and “Sqeeky” Gascoigne all Long Eaton C.C. with Derek Robinson. as team mechanic, I was to go as manager and managers were on motorcycles not cars. This suited me down to the ground. In the shop, we had a new 500 VH single cylinder Ariel which we had had over 12months, so this was licensed and all import and export forms filled helped by the R.A.C. (not required now apart from a green insurance card). Meanwhile Bill Henshaw had been short listed by Arthur Spurgin ( England team manager) Bill however turned down the invite preferring to stay with the Long Eaton team.

The race started on the Thursday 29^th April 1954. We left Tuesday night Bill took the bikes etc and the three riders whilst Bren Thorpe came pillion with me. We left Long Eaton about seven o’clock going the usual road, we stopped for fish and chips at Bethesda then across Nant Francon pass in to Bangor and so across Telfords bridge and on to Holyhead for the night ferry. As we were crossing the causeway which leads in to Holyhead I felt Bren go all heavy, he had fallen asleep on the back, he was amazed when I awoke him.

We were on the ferry and asleep before midnight arriving at Dun laughaire about 7.30am. We were booked in at our “second home” with Mrs Ryan, breakfast was all ready a full English - or rather Irish - with black pudding. We rode down to Dublin in the afternoon to collect frame and body numbers and start list. I was on the motorcycle and had with me a new pair of wheels that I had built complete with freewheel and tyres, we fitted these on the rear carrier with only three toe straps (very like Mavic do now for mountain stages and/or time trials in the big tours on the continent). Outside the headquarters we found the Scottish team in deep conversation near our Ariel, their manager, who we took an instant dislike to, said ‘you cannot carry them wheels its against the rules’. Where are these rules? we asked, he could not produce any. But the next day before the start of the race he got the commissionaires to get us to remove the tyres as it gave us an unfair advantage. This silly way of going on went on for at least 2 years because in the Peace Race the following year no team was able to fit a wheel complete. If a rider punctured he had to change his own tyres. This rule was changed by U.C.I for 1956.

Previous to the race start on the next day, we had a meeting to discuss tactics, having ridden myself the previous year I did not want any jealousies which had occurred then. For instance talking behind the managers back instead of every grievance being advanced and brought out in the open.

Bill asked “What do you mean by last year” .

“Well Bill” I said “when Eric, Reggie and I were away on the 3^rd day we had given Tom food and drink to be handed up to us but we only saw him once all day, and that was after about 20 miles when we had 9 mins lead on the main group. Tom told us to stop working, although we were the only team by then with three riders up there, we assumed Tom was looking after you and Bren”

“What!” exclaimed Bill “we got nothing from Tom nor any information of how far you three were away and regards the food, he seemed to give it all to Dave Keeler, including the bar of Cadburys Milk (half pound block) we had bought between us”.

As this happened 12 months previously, it was a good example of not bringing things out in the open. After a heated discussion it was decided that no animosity would be held between us and this made us into a good team. I was to use this same discussion in all my future events as manager, mechanic and masseur. Also when we had a motor cycle marshal team and cars drivers I used the same idiom - it worked wonders. Prizes were also another crucial matter. We agreed that all prizes would be shared equally, this meant a rider could sacrifice himself for another or the team, and in the case of national team racing the committee would be informed in the race report so future selection for events would not be jeopardised.

#041 - 1954 - Common Wealth Games Selection

2008-03-12T11:06:00.004Z

1954 was Commonwealth games year, in the summer the N.C.U ran its first road race on the highway, previously the N.C.U had only run races on closed circuits. The race was open to all riders - categories were not arranged until the N.C.U amalgated with the B.L.R.C naming the new association the British Cycling Association. This event was limited to 60 riders of which two came from Long Eaton C.C. - Bill Henshaw and I.. The event started near Fazeley and going past the famous golf course Stan Jones (later to ride in the Tour de France) broke away but Bill and I chased and caught him just after the island on the A5, we were away along the A5 then turned left on to the A453 then left again on the A446 thus completing a lap. I stayed with these two for two laps when I took my usual lack of training “packet” and got dropped on the long drag up the A453. I chased for about 3 mile when I was caught by a large group with the Concord, Solihull, Midland R.C and Huddersfield riders. I was dropped from this group after about 10 miles and then I packed. Bill Henshaw finished 6^th an excellent performance.

In July that year we had entered a Commonwealth games selection event held near Leek, we still had the trusty Morris and in it was five of our club, at the bottom of Swinscoe near Waterhouses we came upon Dot and Eric Thompson. Who were riding to the event, Eric waved us down saying he wasn’t going to make the start, and this for him was a very important event, in fact I think it was the final event for selection. We put Eric and Dots bikes on the back (good job we had a long strap) that made seven bikes and seven riders. Can you see modern cars doing this now.

We arrived at the start just in time to collect numbers and have the bikes tested. I did not start, Eric Thompson won this event in one of his fiery sprints and as history tells us he won the road race in Vancouver later that year. We all rode in the Dublin-Galway-Dublin event, little did I realise at the time that this would be my last event apart from the national champs at Rugby which was won by John Perks of Earlswood C.C. John now I remember had won the Tour of Ireland that same year. Pete Rhodes rode in Ireland that year, I punctured on the back road to the crossroads at Maynooth, I chased and was almost up with the bunch when I saw Pete miss the “T” junction and land in the ditch, the “Sag” wagon was just behind him as the group was “tout ensemble” Pete picked his bent bike up and threw it from one end of the van to the other - and it was a long van - I nearly fell off my bike laughing. We finished well down although we enjoyed our stay in Ireland ( we always did).

The business was still doing very well and our relations with Triumph Engineering Co were first rate. Most years we invited all personell of the spare parts and service departments to a dinner and bought tickets for the Test match at Trent Bridge. A great time was had by all but we knew that these great men helped us outside all reason. Our orders were always fulfilled, the parts manager going down the “track” if any parts were in short supply, the service and repair shops could not do enough for us either. Little did we realise that in 17 years time the demise of this wonderful company and they and their staff would be no more. One particular year after we had invited the staff to the test match, I called at the Triumph works as usual to pick up parts. The manager came out and asked which was my van. We had the old Bedford still, the manager asked if I had time to wait a few minutes whilst they loaded the van with parts I had ordered, I kept noticing that one of the staff kept going past with a loaded trolley. When I eventually got to my van to drive to B.S.A I found it loaded with 10 Service Exchange crankshaft complete with connrods and 10 650cc cylinders barrels, this great haul enabled us to give a Service Exchange business second to none. We were also doing well with B.S.A, Norman Vanhouse making us full agents for parts with the corresponding higher discounts. Derbyshire Police were also showing interest in new TR6 Triumphs complete with Avon Fairings, we were invited to put in our tender which was successful andin early 1960 supplied them with 12 machines which were to last them until 1971 when they bought B.M.W. due to Triumphs demise.

#040 - 1953 - Trips and Holidays

2008-03-11T17:23:00.001Z

I was still managing to race performing reasonably well in the two Track Leagues at Derby and Nottingham. But the business curtailed training time, although as a family we were going walking on Sundays mainly in the Peak District especially to the Kinder Scout area. On one particular Sunday we came to Hope and found a rough track going up Win Hill, the track on the map looked as though we could get to the Snake Pass, we opened several gates, the track getting ever narrower so nearly at the top the track was too rough to negotiate.

To turn round I had to put on full lock, drive to the edge of a precipice, then Carol, Jean and brother in law Keith pushed the van sideways as it skidded on the wet grass. We left the van there and walked up Crookstone Knoll then round Kinder downfall and so returning to the van for our lunch. Halfway thro lunch, a party of ramblers came up from the direction of the Snake Pass, on passing us one of them kept looking round at us in the van. After passing us about 100yds he came running back towards us, I opened the window to speak to him when he said “how the b……. hell have got up here in that” he could not envisage we had turned the van round because it did look as if we had come up from the Snake - what a laugh we had.

Easter that year found Carol, Keith, his son David and I staying in a farm in the vale of Llanberris. We did not leave Long Eaton until after 7 o’clock and so arrived at the farm late, the family were in bed and we had to exist in the car all night until the farmer’s wife luckily got up early and cooked us breakfast seemly to be upset that she had not waited up for us. We left after breakfast to Llanberris leaving the car near the mountain railway station, at that time it looked like a Swiss cottage in its natural wood (I was to visit here in 1990 and I saw to my regret that the building had been painted hideously in red and blue). We walked up Snowdon on the railway path, this was our first walk in the mountains and we had ordinary clothes, Sports coat and flannels and raincoats, it rained and blew all the way up, when we reached the top all was deserted - even the café looked closed and we were all about shattered. Anyway I tried the Café door and it opened what a sigh of relief there was. We were the first up there, we stripped off our wet clothes and hung them up to dry. Whist we were doing this in walked three “puka” climbers kitted out in all the latest gear - said to the Café owner “We are first up again then” and on seeing us they exclaimed “is the railway running ?” No, we chorused , we felt quite proud. On the descent it rained all way, the clouds were well down so we had no views at all. At the bottom the van was on the other side of the river so to miss about 1 mile detour we walked through the river - we could not get any wetter. On our return to the farm the wife fed us superbly and also lent us dry clothes. It was still early so we had a look at Snowdon Ranger youth hostel then on to Cricceith Castle, the sun came out and the scenery was super.

Later in 1953 we entered a road race at Esholt Park between Leeds and Bradford , the trusty Morris getting us there. The course was about 3 miles round with one fairly steep hill of 6oo yards, the back straight wended its way through a sewage farm, the huge flies and the smell was revolting, the race was won by Brian Haskell with his Huddersfield R.C. winning the team, we were well down vowing never to ride there ever again.

October 1953 saw us in the old Bedford Van having accepted an invitation by the Huddersfield R.C. to attend their annual dance, this was held in the Town Hall in Huddersfield, Bill Henshaw and Dennis Thomas and I were invited and we each stayed at various members homes, Bill with Tom Oldfield and Dennis Thomas and I with Gran Hayley. We were late getting there as going over the moors we had electrical trouble with the van. - no lights or ignition, luckily we had a coil of light wire which we connected to the positive terminal on the battery then to the positive on the HT coil, much to our amazement the van started. After a good night at the dance we remembered we had entered the Huddersfield R,C. hill climb that started at Holmfirth to finish near the T.V. mast at the top of Holme Moss, after the dance the night before we were in no shape to do a ride and it was no surprise that we all packed before the summit. The van behaved perfectly on the way home over Strines moor then past Derwent dams and so home. We finished 1953 by doing many long Sunday runs, two of them over the Snake Pass.

#039 Back to Work

2008-03-11T17:19:00.002Z

On our return from Ireland (May 1953) the shop was very busy, We were appointed Main Agents for N.S.U . Motorcycles and the famous “Quickly” Mopeds, these were delivered in containers of 24, they were so popular, most were sold before the crates were open. After filling in licence forms etc it was off to Derby for the road fund license. We also had the Greeves and Lambretta Scooter Agency and had built up quite a good business for spares especially for the “goodies” for scooters, these were chrome leg guards/spot lights/ fairings/ carriers and other enhancements that took the youngsters fancy to personalise their machine.

We had to have a day when we collected parts from London. And we would leave Long Eaton about 9am, a ‘short cut’ had been sussed out through London - over the Vauxhall Bridge to Camberwell, on thro’ Dulwich, a toll road up to Crystal Palace, on to the A23 and so to Lambretta at Croydon in one of the old Airport buildings. Orders were left there for us to pick up before 5.30 p.m. the same day. Next stop was NSU at Hammersmith. Arriving there via Putney, past W.F. Holdsworth Cycle Shop and so over Hammersmith Bridge and to NSU, here we had to leave our spares order for collection later. Occasionally we had to go down to Southend to collect parts from Greeves Motorcycles at Thundersly just off the A3.

We had now acquired a new Ford Transit Van and this was a vast improvement on the Bedford van and the series E Morris 8. (We actually carried Lambretta frames in the Morris 8, all we had to do was remove the passenger front seat. With all the parts collected we came back in like Christmas trees, just enough room for the driver, luckily we had no mechanical trouble).

I remember one day with the new Ford “Thames” van loaded up to the roof when the bottom hose blew, although this hose is in a very awkward spot I did manage to get it off, I walked to the nearest emergency phone box, rang the A.A. and along came a breakdown truck, he had every bottom hose but the one we wanted! it was too late to do anything about it so there was no option but to stay the night until the local Ford stockist opened at 8am. I was away 10am and back at the shop by 12 noon where I was confronted with a queue of customers waiting for these parts and special Lambretta accessories. We did not have much trouble with transport, the only occasion apart from the blown hose was in 1960 when we bought a new Morris 1800 cc “Land Crab” .

I was driving towards Putney bridge when on changing down to negotiate the left hand turn to take me along side the south of the Thames, there was aloud bang a piece of metal came through the top of the bonnet. I got out of the car, crawled underneath and found that the clutch thrust plate bearing had crashed through its housing, also from underneath the car, I could see the long queue of traffic which I was holding up. As the car was still on the descent I let it roll down the hill towards Putney Bridge. I engaged top gear and it fired, I was then able to drive from there to Staples Corner at Hendon just prior to the M1, but the traffic lights stopped me and the car was on an up gradient. I rang the AA and out came an Irish lad with a Land Rover. After a technical discussion we suggested he drive the 1800, while I and his girlfriend who had accompanied him on the call-out, push started the car, then he drove the 1800 on to the M1 with me following in his Land Rover.

He negotiated on to the M1 stopping at a down gradient where we changed drivers and he and his girlfriend gave me a push. All he wanted was £5 tip. It was then more by luck than judgement that I was able to drive the 1800 to Long Eaton much to the amazement of the Morris dealer there. We had many trips of this sort down to London especially when we had a spray room built, this enabled our Lambretta specialist to buy earlier Lambretta scooters and do them up almost as new and being cheaper we could not get enough, this was the time of the “mods and rockers” We were one of the few shops who catered for both. Digressing again I have jumped forward a year or two.

#038 - 1953 - Tour of Ireland - Part 3

2008-03-11T16:00:00.005Z

The next day was to be the mountain stage i.e. Cork via the Boggeragh mountains and so into Killarney to finish at Limerick. We bought food in a delicatessen in Cork, Brian Robinson and his Huddersfield team were also there and I overheard them saying they were going straight from the start gun in Cork. I relayed this information to Tom and the other members of our team and we made a plan to ‘go’ with them.

Sure enough from the start we “went” - Eric, Reg and I from our team, with Brian Robinson, Haskell, Gran Hayley and Tom Oldfield from Huddersfield R.C., Willy Long, Jack Ryan and Shay Elliot from the Dublin Wheelers. In seemingly no time at all we had 10 minutes lead on the main field. It took our manager Tom, miles to catch us as he could only obtain a 125cc Motor Cycle. We were expecting food and drink from him as we had ridden quite a few hard miles. Much to our surprise he was hopping mad with us for leaving Bren in the bunch (I.e. Race Leader) but we had known that Bren would not be “going” well as he had refused breakfast – as, we discovered the reason later - he was a devout Roman Catholic and the day was a fast day.

We, at that time on the race, were race leaders and all the information we got from Tom was to stop working, we like fools did this , much to the annoyance of the rest of the “breakaway group”. We did not stick this abuse long and we started to work again but on a mountain just before Killarney I was dropped. After about ten miles on my own I was caught by a chasing group which contained Dicky Bowes and his Solihull lads, I managed to stop with this group when we caught the leaders just short of the finish at Limerick. The stage was won by a lad from Liverpool, he was one of the McIntyre brothers the others being professional boxers, we finished well up but out of the prizes, we had also lost the purple jersey this going to Shay Elliot.

We again had good accommodation the evening meal being held at the Town Hall where we had at least three helpings of roast beef, none your modern pasta meals for us. Quite a few lads had saddle boils we were all walking like “cowboys” worst of all being a lad from Surrey named Don Ford , he was in real agony. We were up as usual for the last day of racing i.e. from Limerick via Naas to finish on Wood Key outside of the Guinness factory in Dublin. It was a fairly easy day, Eric and I did breakaway at Naas but were soon caught as we were close to the home of Joe McCormack; we had promised him we would let him lead the group through his home town.

We were soon in the city of Dublin and I have never seen so many people at it was estimated a quarter of a million people saw the sprint down Wood Key, every flat top building was packed with people; they were up lamp posts and down Wood Key thousands of kids were sat on the pavement kerbs and we were sprinting for the line down there, luckily there was no tip ups. The whole of the Ryan family was there to meet us and we were overjoyed to see them. In the evening the meal and prize giving was held in one of the best hotels in O’Connell Street, I think it was the Royal right opposite the Post Office of 1916 fame.

We obtained several photographs - some of which Bill Henshaw still possesses I hope he will lend us some to put in this story, we caught the boat next night and so drove home, we did stop once at an all night petrol station in Bangor, Tom had to put gallons in his Humber, then it was the turn of the Bedford, whereupon Lew Barker leapt out of the Humber shouting to the petrol attendant to put a fart in each tyre and two gallon in the tank as the van runs on air it certainly was economical. So ended a most successful tour we had nurtured many friendships in the Emerald Isle.

#037 - 1953 - Tour of Ireland - Part 2

2008-03-11T15:49:00.006Z

The race started in Dublin on a Thursday morning, there where 140 starters. We rode down the 6 miles from Dun Laghaire to the ceremonial start on O’Connell Street in the centre of Dublin. The start proper was another19 miles very close to Bray. We all had a ‘pee’ then the lead car dropped to tricolour and we were off. Reg, Eric and I stayed near the front, just like we did on the track. There was a prime at Gorey which was won by Eric, he also won primes at Arklow and Enniscorthy, in no time at all we were on the outskirts of Wexford in sight of the “five mile to go” sign, there was a mass sprint all four of us were in the first twenty but not in the prizes.

Our digs were terrible, four small beds in a room you could hardly sling a cat round. The evening meal was held in the best hotel in town all competitors and officials eat together, the fare was first rate. We were soon in bed, woken by Tom early the next morning. We went down for breakfast the woman was cooking over an open fire , the porridge was awful all black sooty bits in it . The bacon and eggs were the same the eggs being blackened, We - Eric Reg and I ate ours but Bill, Bren and Tom would not touch theirs. We checked over our bikes had a quick rub down with embrocation, packed our bags for the luggage van and then donning track suits we went down to the headquarters hotel where Tom managed to get us another breakfast. Good job he did for we had a long way to go to finish at Waterford, we bought fruit etc for our feed during the long stage which took us inland to Kilkenny and then down into Waterford.

Again Reg, Eric and I were in the front group for quite a while. When on the way near Thomastown a donkey cart ran into the peleton , the damage done was unbelievable our team managed to avoid it but those at the back had a hell of a time. In fact quite a few were injured and packed. Ted Gerrard (later to tide in the Peace Race) smashed his bike so bad he managed to make one machine out of three and finished well inside the time limit. Dave Duffield who comments on this event in his Tour de France spiel with Eurosport may well recall this smash as he and Dave Keeler were involved. About twenty miles to go Eric and I went to the middle of the bunch to find Bill and Bren, we sent Bren up front, by the time we got back to the front of the peleton a break had occurred and we could not bridge the gap. We were elated at the finish as we learned that Bren had won the stage and was to wear the Purple race leader jersey.

Our “digs” in Cork were first class, we were in the “Headquarters Hotel” and were entertained by the De-Lacey family who at that time ran the Irish Dunlop Rubber Company, we had a most marvellous meal laced with the best wine and champagne, Reg Morton taking a real shine to Miss De-Lacey.

#036 - 1953 - Tour of Ireland - Part 1

2008-03-11T15:43:00.004Z

March 1953 saw me early morning training with Les Thompson, we would start at 7am going to Borrowash –Shardlow –Sawley x-roads and then home. I rode the early season events to get fit for the two Track Leagues. Later that month we received an invitation from the Eire Cycle Federation to ride in their “Tour of Eire 4 day”. Tom Crowther received the invite and after a meeting of various riders he decided to pick a team representing Derby National Cyclists Union, the riders picked where Reg Morton Derby Ivanhoe, Eric Thompson Derby Mercury, Bill Henshaw, Bren Thorpe and myself (luckily) all of Long Eaton C.C. We trained fairly hard for this event but I don’t remember us training together. Reg Morton did fetch me out for “sprint” training - mostly in the dark - on the A52 from Risley down to finish at Borrowash 30 sign. Each one leading out in turn. We did manage a weekend training run to Stratford on Avon starting on a Saturday morning, I came home on Sunday. The rest went down to Chipping Norton on the A44 then back through Banbury and Coventry. The time soon came round for us to leave for the Tour it was at the end of April 1953.

You may wonder why I am singling this Tour from the many I was to go on in the future, but everyone who rode this and the 1954 Tour holds them in their memory. We left Derby on the Monday; I drove our 1938 Bedford Van with Bill Henshaw, taking the bikes and luggage. Tom took Reg, Eric and Bryn and Lew Barker who had entered solo, Tom had bought an ex-Army Humber. It was O.k. but it drank petrol - only doing about 15 mile per gallon whereas the Bedford did well in excess of 40 m.p.g. We had an uneventful drive to Holyhead, apart from Tom running down an escape road on one of the many bends between Uttoxeter and Stone. We unpacked the bikes etc, had a word with the harbour Master, he knew us well by now, and as usual he allowed us on the boat before the London Mail train came. We had a meal and retired in to pre-booked cabins to sleep before the mailmen dropped their bags in the cabin above, although the ship we were in was brand new i.e. the “Cambrian” we had the same trouble with the mailbag and newspaper drops as on the old “Princess Maud”

We had managed to leave the transport at the bus garage in Holyhead (no charge) they were much safer there, the head man there also left me a bottle of petrol in the van so I could start the model on our return later that week. The reason for the petrol was that on this long stroke pre-war van the petrol pipe ran close to then engine and after stopping the petrol evaporated from the pipe. We had to remove the top of the carb, pour in the petrol and so prime the pump, what a palaver. The van also had a nasty habit of sticking in top gear, which necessitated removing the top of the gearbox and then pushing the sliders in to a square, and then refitting, it would be O.K. for miles then.

We arrived in Dun Laoghaire at 7.30am first having to be sprayed with anti foot and mouth disease deterrent (there was an outbreak in England at the time). We had again booked accommodation at Mrs Ryan’s and breakfast was all ready for us, what a fabulous place Mrs Ryan’s was and how she looked after us and a family of seven we will never know. (I was to visit her some thirty years later with my step- son David)

As well as the boarding house they also ran a pub or at that time a “drinking shop”. Mr Ryan looked after this establishment; it was from him I learnt the reason why our name had two “T”s. He reached above the bar and brought down a huge dusty black book, this listed all people who where inside the pale fence built by the English years ago, and those people beyond the pale, i.e. Butler with one T inside and with two Ts “beyond the pale” - we learned different things every day. In an outhouse at the rear of the pub there was a bike, which six riders could ride on, it was used for pacing on the track - or had been in the early 1920,s. (This model was to be the subject of much laughter some 45 years later at a Golf dinner.

#035 Wolloway Farm

2008-03-11T15:27:00.001Z

On the Sunday after Eire, Bill and I had entered a race in Derbyshire, it started in Macclesfield, I cannot remember the name of the event but it finished in Bollington. I had a practice run of the hill i.e. “Cat and Fiddle” and thought I’ve had it to day. The race started and “mountain goat” Brian Haskle jumped away and I did not see the break anymore that day, did I struggle. I vowed to finish though I was not going through the ignominy of Ireland again. I climbed at my own pace up the “Cat and Fiddle” then through Buxton where at Burbage my cousins gave me a cheer. Eric Thompson was on Taddington Hill cheering me on, then I caught one or two riders through Bakewell and then Baslow, up to Peak Forest, Mam Tor down to Whaley Bridge, then we seemed to go over a small river bridge and up in front on the left at top of a hill there was a huge crowd I thought they were watching a motor cycle hill climb. We turned left and there was the hill!! What a climb, I think they use this as the National hill climb sometime. The finish soon hove in sight I was in the car and off “buggered”.

In Whitsuntide of that year we decided to go to the Lake District. Bas Butler had given me an address near Penruddock just north of Ullswater. We left Long Eaton at 6.30pm going to Scotch Corner then over Bowes Moor to Appleby and so to Penrith (no M6 then). We rang Mrs Edmunds up to get to know just where we were and she said keep on the A66 until the second railway bridge then turn left to Wolloway Farm, we found the farm about midnight, Mrs Edmunds had waited up for us. We were in our Ford “Transit” van. Keith was camping in it with his two lads, Mrs Edmund had a fit as she had only room for three and had seen six get out the van. We soon put her mind at rest; we were made very welcome with supper soon provided - all home made food. Up next morning early we had a sumptuous breakfast in front of a lovely fire, we had found “Shangri-La”. We picked Keith up and travelled down to Ullswater, what a view of Ullswater one find the first time near to Aera Force we stopped and admired the view. We stopped at the side of Ullswater it was a lovely hot day. We left the children playing in the water, Keith and I planning to climb Hellvelyn, but it was too hot so we sunbathed all day instead. It was soon lunchtime, Keith was supposed be in charge of camping, I think we had one cup, one fork and one spoon between us - did we laugh.

Jean, Carol and I were lucky as we had an evening meal booked and what a meal, meat and potato pie, suet pudding - absolutely marvellous. Before that we had met Mrs Edmunds family, they had two boys and two girls all similar age to our families, their family was to increase to five boys. We played cricket on the grass at the front of the farm, tip and run all the family played, mums and dads a well. We had found a place where we were to go every chance we had for years hence, the whole family becoming close friends (John, one of their sons, and his new wife was to spend part of their honeymoon with Kathleen & I many years later) Bas who had given us the address could never get in again, we almost commandeered the place.

Late in 1952 the gymnasium was going through a rough time, the instructor, a new man was more interested in a student girl teacher than us and he had the sack. I decided to go to the education committee to see if I could run the class myself. Sure enough for three years it was run as a night school class at Bramcote Hills School, Beeston. We had a good turn out having Ian Hallam grace us at certain times. After three years we reverted back to Long Eaton where we ran two classes - one at Roper school and one at the Grammar school, we also formed a club called the Long Eaton Velo a multi sports club which was to continue until this year 2000. High fee, imposed by Derbyshire County Council being the root cause, it has now ceased, so a gym class formed in 1933 has gone the way of many other pre-war innovations.

#034 - 1952 - Tour of Wicklow

2008-03-11T12:20:00.004Z

1952 dawned as Olympic year; this is when a lot pack up and new ones start. We rode in quite a few selection events, Eric Thompson narrowly missing track selection. Another mate of ours George Newberry, “made” the pursuit team finishing 3^rd in Helsinki. We decided to ride in events held in Eire and in June entered the “Tour of Wicklow” and the Dublin-Cavan-Dublin, plus an event in Phoenix Park. The riders were Tim Thomas, John Scholes, Bill Henshaw, Tom Crowther, Alan Prentice and myself. I did manage to get some long training rides in for these events, which was quite a change for me. I was supposed only to ride in the “Tour Wicklow” but as it transpired I stayed for the lot.

“Tour of Wicklow” was on the Sunday and in the pouring rain we departed from Dun Laoghaire. The start was at Blessington and we arrived a little later than we ought. We booked a room with a bath so we could luxuriate at the finish. Looking out the window I noted that all the riders in the event were lined up on the Square outside, to my surprise they had started, we dashed downstairs grabbed our bikes whereupon the judges made us go round a big tree first- the reason for which defeated us! We did a “pursuit team” to catch up, and it was a blessing in disguise we were late, there had been a massive pile-up on a bad bend and by the time we had caught up there were bodies everywhere. (I particularly remember rounding a blind bend in top gear and faced with a “house side” of a hill in the wrong gear, we climbed this hill with Blessington Lake in the mist to our right). Then we seemed to descend and at the foot of the hill we turned sharp left along a 4 mile, sandy rough path. Riders gradually went away from me - I counted six - I was then caught by Alan Prentice who was suddenly seen to be balancing on a big boulder on his bottom bracket, he got off to examine the damage, I waited for him and at the same time we were caught by Tim Thomas, he was on his first tour - what an eye opener, Alan Prentice sprinted off and left us who had stopped to assist him. I was furious at this and told Tim to go and catch him and knock him off! Two miles further on, we caught and dropped Alan, we then caught Joe McCormack who was in a very sad state, we gave him some food and he rode along with us.

At the end of the sandy stretch there was a left turn and a steep step to the main road. The organisers had stationed three big Irishmen to lift each rider bodily round the corner - bike and all, what a race. Bill was third, Tim, Joe and I 6th, 7^th and eighth.Tim and I were in the bath together after Bill, the water was hot but black, we wouldn’t let Alan in and he was to suffer a cold bath. We rode home in the rain to Mrs Ryan’s where we had our usual large hot meal. This was the evening prior to return home on the 9am boat next morning, but I again won that much at “Pontoon” that I stayed for the long event on the Wednesday.

The race started in Phoenix Park on the Wednesday morning, we lined up walking behind the band, being honoured guests, however the starter seemed to jump from the crowd firing his gun, we were jammed behind the band and had another race to catch the leaders. 140 started so we had quite a task. The plan was (or rather Toms) was to endeavour to get John Scholes away on his own, he was a good time triallist, and, as he was going in the Army the following week, and Tom wanted a good result for him so he could be in the Army Cycling Corps. The first half of the race to Cavan, which is just south of Northern Ireland, was uneventful although I did have a go with Joe Joe McCormack but we were caught after few miles. When we were 50 odd miles from the finish all our crowd rode to the front and we managed after a few attempts to get John Scholes away, he seemed to go so slowly and of course on those long straight roads we never thought he would make it, meanwhile we were blocking like mad and in a quite spell I went looking for Tim Thomas to help, I seemed to be going back for ever, just as I was thinking he had packed I espied him, he was sitting up on top of the bars eating bananas, he shouted “if this is road racing I’m all for it”. I soon read him the facts of life and had him up at the front “blocking” with us. All seemed to be going well when some 10 mls from Dublin on those long straight roads we could see John, we were “shot” having been blocking for seemingly miles, we had nothing left and he was caught. Still we had tried, Kit O’Rourke won the race, Shay Elliot was there on an old bike and Willy Long, Jack Ryan and Jim McQuaid all riding fixed gear. We all became really good mates.

Friday night saw us riding in the Grand Prix of Dublin in Phoenix Park, we were now classed as Internationals and we again got caught behind the band and had to chase to catch the group, after several laps Bill and I jumped away on the back straight. We had quite a lead with one Irish lad on a old bike sitting in, I said to Bill on the last lap we ought to make him work, ‘he’s no good’ said Bill ‘he’s had it’, what a mistake we both made because on the last time up ‘Khyber Pass’ this lad jumped us, I managed to get his wheel but he dropped me just yards from the line, I thought I would be second but almost on the line I was passed by about 8O riders. The young lad was none other than “Shay” Elliot riding and winning his first event; never underestimate anyone especially in Eire.

#033 1952 Return to Dublin

2008-03-11T12:15:00.004Z

1951 was Festival of Britain year, there were many special cycling events, I can’t recall any apart from the Notts Centre 5 mile grass champs where I finished third to “Cis” Crisp and “Hervy” Turner. I did a Norman Casswell type kick over the line I thought I had won but - no.

We again rode the Dublin - Galway held on August Bank holiday; a Sturmey Archer expert from Raleigh (he designed the Trigger control) decided to come with us. Tommy Clough was his name, he was 65 but he kept up with us O.k. Well, that is until we climbed over Nant Francon pass, he took a real hammering and could not continue, Bill and Bren Thorpe stayed with him at Bethesda, Bert Humphries, Alan Prentice and I continuing to Holyhead, it was a hard ride, head wind and rain. We were to be in Dun Laoghaire some 12 hours before being joined by the others.

On buying food in Dublin and just before the start, I overheard Brian Robinson and his team saying they were going from the start. I conveyed this information to the other riders in our team but only Bert and I were able to make the breakaway. The group worked very well, we were minutes up at Athlone and then calamity - I punctured, I changed tyres and the “bunch” caught me, meanwhile Bert was still there but with 2 miles to go he touched a wheel and came down, he was taken to hospital. We finished some minutes behind the leading group still unaware that Bert had been taken to hospital. In those early days a big van took all the baggage and it emptied the whole lot piecemeal in the middle of Galway Square, whereupon we would rummage through the collection, find our property and then seek out the ‘accommodation man’ who told us where we were to stay.

We found our place - five beds in one room, one bed being a camp bed so of course this was left for Bert. We had our evening meal then – Bert still missing - decided we had better make some enquires of his whereabouts. We found him wandering round Galway still in his racing kit but wrapped in a hospital blanket. We took him back to the digs, he had a bath and a meal after which it was then time for bed, Berty played hell about the bed we had allocated him, then we heard him saying “22 - still a virgin and lost my manhood”, he had fallen heavily on across his crossbar. We were to rag him for years over these remarks and others.

We all finished the next day but out of the prizes. A breakaway that occurred just about 20 mile from Dublin was caught, all those who were in the chasing group have never ridden so fast - before or since - it was terrific. My wife Jean and Carol were at the finish so we had a nice weekend, I electing to go back with them on the train. We still won the Nottingham Track League but I was still hopeless in the sprints. I did win all of the Club track championships and so had Trophies presented at the dinner.

#032 Dublin - Galway - Dublin 2 Day

2008-03-11T10:43:00.006Z

July was a busy month for us (no August 1st rush then) Tom rang me to say we had a invitation to ride in Ireland in the Dublin-Galway-Dublin coast to coast race to be held that August Bank Holiday, although I was not fit I elected to go. Although accepting Tom’s invitation was a bit rash on my part I still hoped to train for the event. Owing to business being hectic I only managed a ride to Tamworth and back - 6o miles - no good for a 268 mile event. However I did manage to get Thursday to Tuesday off work. The ride to Holyhead did me the world of good, we again carried our best wheels and had mudguards and saddle bags, quite a weight to carry. Tom had given me a new frame of his own make i.e. Mercian, he was trying to sell frames in Dublin to the Rutland Cycle Co and Jack Hannan’s shop - both near St Stephens Green. Bill Henshaw bought a Stronglight Chainset and a Campag front and rear gear from Jack Hannan at a very good price, he also bought some Super Vittoria tyres from Jack’s shop, these were unobtainable in England. We also bought nylon stockings from a “posh “ shop in O’Connell St, I hit a model and knocked it over pushing at least twenty more down domino style, I caught the first model whilst leaning over the counter to see the assistant pull her skirt up to her mid thigh to show off the 50 denier nylons, nothing was rationed in Ireland whereas everything in England still was.

We collected our numbers and programmes etc from the race headquarters then had lunch at Fortes on O’Connell Street, in there we met Alan Salt and some mates of his from Rolls Royce who were Youth Hostelling in Ireland, when they heard I was riding in the Dublin-Galway-Dublin event they roared with laughter - a Track man in a two day road race and with very little training to boot. Undeterred by their banter, we returned to our Irish mum Mrs Ryan and got the bikes ready, I removed my mudguards and as the enamel was still in the fork ends I left the mudguard bolt in situation (I was to suffer dire consequents for this error).

We should have been in bed early the night before the event, but Mrs Ryan had family about our age i.e. Jimmy, Jack, Joseph and Noel and two girls Mona and Trixie, we started playing Pontoon after dinner and at 2am in the morning we were still at it. Every time we stayed at Mrs Ryan’s we played cards. On one evening later in the decade I was losing so much money I had only my boat ticket for the journey home, on the last hand I turned up the “Bank” and in a hour I won enough to stay three more days and buy some very sorely needed sun glasses.

We rode down to Dublin, I felt in fine form until realising I had only one bottle for the event, this was to prove fatal as the first day was very hot. The race started at 11am, going via the big Catholic college at Maynooth, then turning right at Kinegad to Mullingar, left on a minor road to Athlone, I was still there at Athlone and the “bunch” was toute assemble. After Athlone I took a “packet” and at Ballanisloe where we turned right on another by-road towards Athenry I lost contact. Meanwhile the other three were doing very well finishing in the leading group on the first day being won by “Tiny” Thomas of Yorkshire R.C. with the Robinson brothers and Bob Maitland not far behind; also up there was Peter Proctor of Bradford R.C.C. (later to be a star rally driver with Sunbeam Talbot, winning the Monte Carlo Rally, he also rode the Tour de France in 1955 with the B.S.A. team) At Athenry I espied the village pump and promptly filled my bottle with water, and in so doing collapsed with cramp, I was helped on my bike by two young women, (more about these two some years later in Long Eaton). I struggled on to Galway now so far behind that all the officials had gone, I found my saddlebag and Ethel Crowther had come looking for me and took me to the “digs”. We had a big meal and I felt much better. Still felt O.K the next morning and was rearing to start the next stage. At the pre stage meeting in our bedroom we decided to go from the “gun”. We set off at a great pace our four together with a couple of Irish lads, it is slightly up hill out of Galway for some miles, I felt great. Then on a long downhill stretch thro Athenry I changed in to top gear and the big ring, when to my horror the chain jammed on one of the mudguard bolts I had left in. Later, on reflection by Tom, before the start he had gone round all the bikes checking them over and had tightened these mudguard bolts up a notch, still it was my own fault for leaving them in. I struggled on in about 82” gear cursing myself, then at Athlone it started raining and I punctured. I changed tyres but I was on my own with the “Sag” wagon right up my backside, wet through and completely demoralised I “packed” climbed in to the “broom wagon” and there found my saddle bag, the van being used as the luggage van as well, I felt a little better after putting on dry clothes.

The stage was won by Bill Henshaw with Peter Proctor second. Peter won the event and Long Eaton C.C. the team award. The dejection of “packing” cannot be described - you don’t belong; you have done nothing towards the team, the others being ecstatic. To sum up the race, Des Robinson said it had been a good even race, same for everybody but harder for some than others. Managed to ride home without mishap from Holyhead, and apart from occasional track meetings I can’t recall any major events that year. I lost the Hillclimb at Monsal Head to Ron Minton who broke our club record with 1m36secs - I did a hopeless 1min55secs !

#031 Dun Laughaire Gran Prix

2008-03-11T10:40:00.005Z

Late in June Tom Crowther and Ethel asked if we would like to go to Dun Laughaire, Eire for a holiday, it was actually a cycle racing week, we decided to go along. The event was early in July and the arrangment was that Jean, Carol and Ethel and I go in the trusty Morris 8 and Tom, Bill Henshaw and "Nip” Underwood would ride to Holyhead. Llittle did I know how many times in the future we would make this journey. We left in the car on Saturday morning, Tom and "Nip" and Bill the day before. We called at Mercian for Ethel and with a good send off by Eric Thompson and Joe Buxton we were off. We were soon on the way thro Wales knowing the road to Bangor like the back of our hands. We stayed at a nice bungalow near Bettwys-coed for a meal then on to Holyhead arriving at 7 p.m. we left the car outside the station all week (things are a bit different now).

The stately L.M.S mail boat the "Priness Maud", was in the harbour and we were allowed to board ship before the "trains came", (very few passengers arrived by car in 1950) although we were not due to sail till 3.45 a.m. We had a meal and then went to our cabins. We were able to sleep for about 4 hours – then the trains arrived from London, packed with Irishmen. That was the last sleep we were able to have - above our cabins was the hold where the newspapers and Royal Mail were loaded and stevedores were bringing these and dumping them with a loud bang right up to sailing time. We arrived in Dun Lagaire at 7.30 a.m. what a lovely landfall that is with the white and pastel shaded houses and mountains in the background. We negotiated customs and then only had a short walk to our hotel "Crofton House". It was a lovely morning, we had breakfast on the front lawn with the Royal Yacht Club just over the wall and Howth Head just across the bay. Dun Laghaire (Kingstown) harbour could hold the whole of the British fleet (which it had in the first world war) but now the Mail Boat was the largest vessel there - myriads of yachts scattered about the harbour.

In the afternoon we explored the surrounding area especially the round tower of James Joyce "Ullysees" where once he had lived. We also found a bathing spot nearby ideal for diving i.e. 40 foot deep. It was for men only and seemed full with young priests from the local college. Sunday morning saw us on the tram to Dublin, quite a adventure then, we walked up the top of Nelsons column, (blown up by the IRA 1970s) I had to carry Carol but rewarded with a magnificant view at the top. Later in the day we found Killeney Beach just a small tram ride away and not far from Bray Head. Monday saw us at the race headquarters. The details of the events were Roller contest, 25 mile Time Trial. a track meeting on Landsdown Road Rugby International ground, finishing up in a 100km road race round Dun Laghaire on the Sunday.

The only one of our party to be married and with a child, it was difficult for me to train, Jean wanting me to be with her and Carol. Anyway we managed and with the weather good we had many beach days together. I rode in the Roller Contest and was hopeless, the following night we were at Landsdowne Road Rugby Football Ground for the track meeting - I found out I had come without my special sprockets 1" pitch so had to ride a high gear. Was as usual hopeless in the sprints but thought I might ride O.K. in the 5 mile handicap, I was placed on scratch mark. I caught what I thought was the leading group going by them all in fine style on the last lap, coming over the line jubilant. That was soon gone as three riders who had started just behind me i.e a lap in front, took the first three places.Bill, Tom and Nip rode well in the time trial on the Navan Rd.

Day of the Dun Laghaire Grand Prix and out came my road bike. The race duly started I would think with 110 field, the course leaves Dun Laghaire harbour front, then turns left up a long hill with a mountain prime taken every lap i.e. 6 laps of just over ten miles, I seemed to be going well, I won four mountain primes then on the fifth lap my rear tyre blew, no service - I was out of the race, I stopped near Jean and Carol just as the heavens opened the rain there is terrific, luckily we were near a monastry, the nuns took us in and lent us towels. Meanwhile the race was still proceeding, Tom Crowther won the other primes on the hill and so won the large trophy. On the last lap Brian Robinson (18 at the time) jumped away with that wily Irish rider "Dicky” Comerford, all the way down the long finish straight "Dicky" was shouting to Brian to leave him as he had had it. "Dicky" won by a length!! Brian was hopping mad. As before Tom won the Mountain trophy and with Bill and Nip they won the team. We managed to catch the early boat back to Holyhead, it was a rough crossing and I was not feeling my best but Carol was running up on deck feeding the seagulls oblivious to the rolling ship. Customs soon negotiated, we made it to our night stop in Llangollen by relaying the bikes and riders.

#030 Work and Racing

2008-03-11T10:36:00.002Z

Our business was still prospering and we enlarged the shop, sales of bikes and motorcycles and parts were increasing all the time. I personally had to change my riding habits from track to road racing. Training for me was difficult often going out in my "boiler suit" and work boots. I was still competing in the Nottingham Track League but not riding well at all due to the lack of training. During these early post-war years two more local clubs appeared - one is still going strong i.e. Long Eaton "Paragon" C.C. this club was formed by a group of cyclists who all had "Paragon" bikes made by that great frame builder Andy Bone of Arkwright Street, Nottingham, I can’t at this stage remember these riders, boys and girls but if I eventually do I’ll append them.

Early one season when Tommy Crowther was in charge of the road team, the club were running a 50 mile Time Trial and Tom was using the peformances in this as a yard stick for the forthcoming event to be held on Nottingham Forest, Norman Casswell and I decided to have a private time trial starting 5mins behind the "field". We rode our track bikes Norman rode 82" fixed and I had on 92". We were (for us) on real top form and finished in the event well under two hours. We, with Bill Henshaw, Alan Prentice, Norman, Alan Salt and Ken Minski formed the team. Early stages seemed great to me it was like riding on the track, that hill came round a few times to many though. On one of the sprints to the top of the hill , I saw Ken Minski sprint to the front, he rounded the bend at the top then for some unknown reason he missed the turn and ran straight in to a wooden form breaking his front forks, luckily he wasn’t to badly hurt. The tale goes that he had bought the frame from Mercian Cycles (Tom Crowther then) the day before. He took his frame back on the Monday to get it replaced under Guarantee!.

The Concorde lads wiped this event up winning all four first places. Norman and I finished well down but Bill Henshaw was fifth, Alan Salt and Alan Prentice also finished but we missed out on the Team award. Also riding well at the time and also to represent England and be top class proffessionals came the Huddersfield R.C. if my memory is correct they had Brian and Des Robinson,Ted Penvose, Brian Haskell, Gran Hayley and Tom Oldfield. 1950 eventually came round, by this time my daughter was two so I fitted a rear seat on my track bike and with her in it we did many miles, we also been talked into walking, going up Kinderscout most weekends taking Carol in a Carradice kiddy haversack.

Still trying to race and run the business, there was very little free time, but we did manage a week in Great Yarmouth in August, we got fixed in a house near the docks the arrangements which were quite common in the late "forties" the idium was rooms and service i.e. one paid for the rooms, bought your own food as required which the landlady cooked and did the washing up and cleaning, I do not remember the cost but it was "peanuts".

#029 1950 Track Leage

2008-03-11T10:26:00.004Z

We had a good season in 1950 winning the Nottingham Track League again; I was still hopeless in the sprints but ok in the fives. At Grantham in July we won every event Dave Holmes, Blos Catchpole, Norman Casswell my brother Ernie and I. We had a job to load the car. On August Bank Holiday we again rode at Grantham this time on the football field and all our Lincolnshire relations came, Reg Morton and Jim Turner both of Derby Ivanhoe C.C. were competing, they were really going well, they beat us in the 1/4 and 1/2 mile events and before the 5 mile event for the large Granta Cup, they shook hands to say they would be 1st and second. They had reckoned without my wily old mate Norman Casswell, he said “When we start, let them go on the front then you Alf, sit on their wheels and I’ll follow you”, he had noticed that both Jim and Reg went slightly wide on the last corner before the finishing straight.

The track was six laps to a mile and it was late at night and the dew was just forming. After 3 laps remained there were only the four of us left going like hell down the back straight and on the last bend they left a small gap, I was through like a dose of salts thinking I had won the Trophy and the prize, when up the inside of me came Norman to pip me by a tyres width, I had been watching for him on the outside.

What a time we had in the Football Club tavern, the trophy was filled time and time again! We arrived home in the early hours of the morning. After Grantham we rode at Rainworth Colliery Sports, Ernie won the 1/4 but I was soundly beaten by Olympic bronze medal winner George Newberry (1952 Helsinki). George was another member of Benny Fosters "equipe" who took all before them. We also rode at Ollerton Colliery Sports, where we came up against that prolific winner from the Potteries Roy Swinnerton; I was determined to beat him in the "five" sitting on his wheel up till the last lap and still could not get by him. He was one of the best "grassman" in our area. Edwinstowe was another place where Athletic and grass track cycling took part. We have had some good hard events with Bill Flinders and all the other Thurcroft lads; Jack Atkinson was another all rounder on road or Track, Brodsworth lads with "Bill Brown and Arthur Maxfield, Sheffield Phoenix with Laurie Dodd, Ron Moore Jim Postlewaite, were also part of this "circus". In the Birmingham area we had the great Tommy Godwin and N.W. Brown of the Rover C.C. they had a terrific pursuit team, we rode against them in a round of the British pursuit championship, the venue being that great little "Velodrome" the Butts at Coventry.

The meeting was part of their track league and we rode in all the events, got lapped in the pursuit, then Norman & I finished 1st and 2nd in the five mile only to be disqualified because we did not come from Midlands centre, this was the second time this had happened. Also coming on the scene especially in circuit races like Nottingham Forest and Esholt Park (Bradford), Dartmouth Park (West Brom) and Sutton Park where there was a compulsory 6am start. Bill Henshaw, Alan Prentice and I rode there. We had to be up well before 5am then a quick dash to Sutton Coldfield in the trusty Morris Eight

This car was a marvel; the spare wheel was fitted upright in the boot. A big strap was tied round the spare, the boot was then closed with the buckle and holed end out of the top of the closed boot door, with the front wheels out one bike was tied to the rear bumper, then the next bike was put with chianwheels either side the other way round (upside down) five bikes could be fitted this way, three front wheels tied on the front bumper and one wheel inside, Five men where inside and we were off. The Solihull club were going well then with Dicky Bowes, Bob Maitland, Dennis Moreton, Stan Jones, this four eventually formed the great Concorde R.C.F. Les Wilmot and Johnny Chance of the Midland were two other good riders, these riders represented England many times and eventually would ride in the "Tour de France” for the B.S.A cycle team.

You will notice that most of these riders took part in all types of events from little unknown grass tracks (where the prizes were good) to places like Herne Hill and Paddington and Fallowfield as well as road races and hill climbs, the N.C.U and the League were sending teams abroad with quite a little success. In 1952 Ian Steele had won the "Warsaw-Berlin-Prague" East European classic with his team riding for Viking winning the Team event. Percy Stallard was Manager with the great Viking rider Bob Thom with the hardest job in a stage race "the Mechaniker”.

#028 Joe's Roller League

2008-03-11T10:23:00.006Z

During the winter of 1948/9 Joe Calladine had bought a full set of racing rollers from Holdsworthy through us, we as usual arranging the very liberal terms. His first open contest was held in conjunction with a dance at People's Hall in Long Eaton, it was a good do with a terrific band; the heats went off quite well with four good winners.

Unfortunately one of the roller's sprocket came off on the front roller, on examination we found that the sprockets were fastened on very amateurishly with long wood screws and two of these were missing, where does one obtain screws at that time of night? (10pm) - With the crowd howling for the final. A bright idea suddenly appeared we took the screws from those big oak doors; the event progressed without any more mishaps. The rollers were returned to Holdsworth for modification, we taking them down early one morning. They were modified the same day.....

Joe then ran a roller league all that winter, it was very successful - most of the local track riders entering each week i.e. Layton Rennie, Jim Turner. Eric Thompson, Lloyd Binch, Cecil Crisp, Harvey Turner, Ron Meadwell, Bill Duffin, Jackie Pratt, George Newberry, Wally Box and Reg Morton to name only a few. B.B.C. and Mecca dance halls also ran a competition with Reg Harris (Champion of the World then) giving over 100mph demonstrations these were shown on TV. Our local contest was held at the Astoria, Nottingham. Twice I managed to win the first event with Clayton Rennie the second i.e. 1948/9. We did not get placed in the National finals held in London in the Hammersmith Palais de dance ballroom. The first time we went to the finals (Bert Smith who was President of our Club by then) took us down to London in his Rolls Royce, pity my form had deserted me.

#027 1948 Track Leage

2008-03-11T10:10:00.003Z

At the annual general meeting of our club in 1948, I was voted track-racing secretary. We had a good team for both grass and hard tracks and I entered all our team so no one knew where they were riding until they received their start programmes on the Saturday morning. We were riding in both Nottingham and Derby Track leagues so we saw each other twice a week at least. We trackmen also rode in the weekly ten mile time trials held at that time from Lock Lane, Sawley to a crossing on the A6 near Hathern.

The first two track meetings that Eric Thompson appeared for our club were held at Long Eaton and Loughborough on Whit-Monday and Tuesday respectfully. Our club had organised the Long Eaton event, Dave Holmes was secretary and did an excellent job. Whit Sunday was spent by the entire club joining in digging long jump pits, marking out the 1/4ml track, the hardest part of this being for the relay changeover places. We put up tents knocked in posts and roped off the crowd areas, built beer and changing tents and pay booths and we still rode in all events held the following day.

Eric Thompson excelled himself; riding off 42yds (novice mark) he won all the handicap events and trounced the best in the scratch events. The next day we were at Loughborough. Norman Casswell decided to go and see the handicapper about Eric. The handicapper was a strict Leicestershire starts man, Norman explained to this gentleman that Eric had won the two handicap events the day before at Long Eaton, would he mind not pulling Eric the 10% as Eric had been very lucky. The handicapper agreed. My brother Ernie won the ¼ mile handicap with Eric second; this looked O.K. but when Eric won all the other events the handicapper came gunning for Norman.

After this great weekend Eric never looked back, winning most events we entered him in that year. Ernie and I tried to race on Saturdays but we were to busy in the shop, so Eric had the car. I borrowed our van to go long after the sports events started - no time to try out the track, win my heat and final and be home before the shop shut, I did this twice at Ashby and Turnditch respectfully. Meanwhile Eric was riding well at Fallowfield track in their mid-week track league, he came under the watchful eye of Benny Foster who lured him in to East Mids Clarion for 1949.

I did ride with Eric on the road on Anstey Aerodrome, Bill Henshaw and Tommy Crowther rode as did a new member our club Rex Butler, who had joined from Belper R. C. His brother Arthur was in our weekly grass track circuit although not in our club. It poured with rain at Anstey, the changing rooms were miles from the start, but I had the car that weekend so was able to go to the start in that. The race started to fast for me with Brian Haskle going like a train, he however punctured and managed to change his bike just as I came up, I jumped on his wheel and never moved till we reached the finishing line, I was wet through and sludge everywhere so I thought 'straight in my car and to the changing rooms', big laugh, I had left my keys in the ignition and as the others had all packed, Eric forgetting I was there drove Tom Bill, Rex and himself back to the headquarters. With a car of my own there I had the ignominy of riding some 3 miles in the rain.

#026 British League of Racing Cyclists

2008-03-11T10:02:00.002Z

Following the death of dad we all had to concentrate more on the business as opposed to “bike racing”, we still kept up with the gym though, forming quite a good basket ball team. Early that year good friends, the Derby Mercury, had their general meeting to discuss leaving the National Cyclists Union (N.C.U.) and formed in 1942 by Percy Stallard of Wolverhampton. Percy advised them joining the British League of Racing Cyclists, (B.L.R.C.) this latter league had been allocated "Massed Start" racing as was then called, Percy wanted to get away from races on closed circuits and race on the open roads. To me this was ideal and at that time very radical, unfortunately the "old stagers" of the N.C.U and R.T.T.C (Road Time Trial Concil) threw out the whole idea, so Percy went along with his Wolverhampton Wheeler colleagues and ran a terrific event from Llaangollen to Wolverhampton. Many cycling historians can write about these events far better than I so I'll leave that historic event to others although I must congratulate Percy on his great vision and wisdom in foreseeing the great improvement in cycle racing.

After a pep talk by a Nottingham B.L.R.C. member the Derby Mercury joined the 'League'. However a small band of track racing cyclists were in the "Mercury" . The N.C.U in their old fashioned wisdom had banned any rider who joined the 'League' to ride the track, this left riders like future Commonwealth Games Champion Eric Thompson, in a vacuum so luckily Eric joined our club bringing with him a complete girls team including that Mercury stalwart Betty Wilkins and Beryl Wightman and Ethel and Tom Crowther, also joining our club from Ilkeston R.C. came Derek Robinson and a young Bill Henshall and Marion Robinson. At that time there were well in excess of 130 in the club.

Derby Mercury went from strength to strength in the ‘League’; they had a terrific team in Ted Upton, Jack Ashworth, "Flog" Hazlehurst, Claude Broadhust, Joe "Buco" Buxton (a legend) Jake Seal, Dave Orford and Derek Wilkins. And many more of course. These riders won many classics promoted by the 'League' who by now had semi-pros in their ranks; this culminated in the "Tour of Britain" sponsored by the national newspaper the "Daily Express" What terrific vision Percy Stallard had and what a pity that the usual ills that attend our sport are still there - not enough people with vision, although I realise in this day and age that traffic is a big problem.

From 1948 the B.L.R.C. has sent a team to the Peace Race i.e. Warsaw - Berlin - Prague. Percy going on the events as team manager, this event was not recognised until 1955 by the Union Cyclist International (U.C.I.) or the N.C.U. The League also had invites to the Tour of Mexico, this also was banned by the U.C.I but thank God that these two cycling bodies allowed these marvellous races a licence eventually.

#025 Birth of Carol

2008-03-11T09:56:00.002Z

In January 1948 our daughter Carol was born, and I was so pleased that dad was able to see her. Carol was born in Derbyshire Women’s Hospital and after one-day mother and child where moved to Holbrook Hall Nursing home, this old hall is sited at the top a steep hill. For some reason dad had the car so I had to go to Holbrook by bike, Bas Butler who was home on demob leave from the paratroops joined me. (He had been sent to the Dutch East Indies (now Indonesia) to relieve the Dutch, the troops had been promised a bloody battle but the dropping of the two atom bombs on Nagasaki and Hiroshima caused a Japanese general surrender - the paratroopers still had a rough time, Bas being lucky to come away alive, he was also in the Arnhem debacle).

It poured with rain, we had hell of job through Mercaston and the hills, I then found my brother had pinched my cape from my saddle bag, The nurses cut us arm holes and head hole in two waterproof bags and we arrived home quite dry. Mother and daughter where lovely and we were so proud. We had decorated a nursery for Carol and we managed also to buy a high chair and a crib that I painted blue and put the Disney type transfers on. We also managed to obtain a nearly new pre-war "Marmet" pram, the one with large chrome wheels. Jeans brother who lived with us until his marathon bike ride to Australia spoilt Carol as we all did. My dad and mum being very proud of their first grandchild.

As 1948 rolled on the business prospered, especially with all the demob cyclists coming in for frames and (cycle) parts. Motorcycles were also doing well but were a job to obtain. Thinking back we seem to be one of the few shops that sold motorbikes and cycles in the same premises. Every Saturday from 8.30 till 6pm customers and friends overwhelmed us. We also ran our own hire purchase scheme (In hindsight we must have been mad)

Dad was by now very ill, in the January of that year he had driven down to Plymouth to meet up with his old army pals from the Devon & Somerset Royal Garrison Artillery. His sergeant, Philip Parsons had been Chief Fire Officer in Plymouth during the WW2, what a load of experience he had obtained. We as a family had spent most of our annual holidays with Parsons pre war, stopping on a farm near Wadebridge. Little did we know that late January that dad would be doing his last drive in his yet to be famous Morris Series E 8hp model built in 1939, this model continued to be manufactured until 1949 when the Morris split screen came on the scene. Dad and mum came home from Plymouth on the 28th Jan and this was the year of the big freeze how my dad drove from Plymouth in that heavy snow we can only imagine. We know that the wind screen wipers packed up at Exeter - the front windscreen opened up by a cranked handle, so he drove all the way from Exeter with an open front windscreen, he might as well have been on a motor bike, they arrived home like two Arctic travellers.

Dad was in and out of Derbyshire Royal Infirmary all that year and eventually dying at home on October 30th 1948 his body ravished with cancer. All that time when he was in such pain, he never turned us down when we had any problems. Didn’t we miss him? The funeral was held at Clumber Street Baptist Chapel. The hall could not hold the huge crowd which was a fitting tribute to his own outlook on life - that as well as making a fair living, one should also help people as much as possible. I have tried to live by his rules ever since.

#024 Work at the shop

2008-03-11T09:49:00.003Z

Dad was taken ill in March 1947, he had been in and out of Derby Royal Infirmary, finally being diagnosed as having cancer of the gall bladder, it had progressed too far and was now inoperable. Dad, now too ill to play an active part was missed terribly in the business, he was the driving force – always up-to-date with new ideas. Ernie and I had to get stuck in, I had to learn wheel-building in double quick time as we were getting orders from all over the country for both motorcycle and specialist light weght, we had some very good suppliers, especially Claud Butler and Tabucchi Tyre Co and Dunlop. We paid every supplier in 7 days which gave us privilaged trading and enabled us to purchase short supply items.

My grandad who worked and lived at Main Street shop died in August 1948, and the shop was taken over by my dads brother Uncle Norman, who eventually built frames under his own name. (dads 2 brothers, Norman and Arthur were in charge of the motorcycle engine and frame repair depots at the Chilwell Ordanace Works from 1939 – 1947) Uncle Norman was also a good muscician, able to build organs and occassionally played at the ‘Ritz’ Cinema in Nottingham – now the Odeon. The Main Street shop had been opened by my grandad in 1898, he had been a wheelwright in Little Harowden, near Northampton and had arrived in Long Eaton to work for a bike firm – Wallis & Longden in Cross Street. Unfortunatly this firm went into liquidation and so grandad started up on his own.

We were still going to Birmingham and Coventry for parts, usually on a Friday, my sporting activities having to take a back seat although we still rode in the track league at Nottingham. We had excellent staff in Les Thompson at Tamworth Road and Reubin Hutchins at College Street, in the office we were fortunate to have Syd Huckle who had been a school pal of mine. We had been over-enthusiastic in early 1948 and bought too many cycles, Syd did an advertising campaign and got rid of the lot! Unable to fulfill his ambitions, he eventually went to Cox & Moore as secretary. We did miss him, and in hindsight lost a lot of money doing our own H.P. and without full time qualified office staff.

#023 Track Success and touring in Devon

2008-03-11T09:42:00.003Z

After the funeral that was held at St Johns Baptist Church in Clumber Street, life gradually returned to normal. Dad was eventually able to take our track team to a mid-week event held at Heckington in Lincolnshire, the day was a real carnival, with a horse gymkhana and “Chase Water Charlie” from Chase in Staffs performed all sorts of tricks on a very small motor cycle. As the car was full i.e. Ernie, “Blos Catchpole, Dave Holmes and my wife Jean and all the bikes and wheels, Norman Casswell and I borrowed a 25Occ S.V motor bike from our stock, it was a pre-war model with girder forks so we had a very bumpy ride. We arrived well in time to try out the track, it was very small - five laps to a mile - with banking on the corners and for grass it was fast. All the Yorkshire good grass men had entered, it looked as though we were in for a tough time.

Norman Casswell advised us the gear to ride, he suggested 82” this is high for grass, but the weather had been good and the track was hard. We all won our heats in the ½ mile handicap, and subsequently all eliminated in the semi-finals. In the mile scratch I won my heat and semi-final and with great excitement was in the final. We had tea in the tent before the final, this was supplied to all competitors and friends, also having tea was Arthur Maxfield, Bill Brodsworth, Jack Atkinson and Brian Thorpe all good Yorkshire trackmen. I overheard them discussing how they were going to beat me. Came the final, using the same tactics as Norman had instilled on me at Burton previosly, I managed to beat Jack Atkinson by half a wheel. We had a fine old time in the “Beer tent” and with a few pints inside us we departed hilariously on the B.S.A. Dad followed behind in the pre-war Morris 8 series “E”, this car took us all over England.

Later that year, the last week in July to be exact Jean and I borrowed a “Sun” tandem from Reenie and Arthur Wild quite a heavy model with rear pedal footbrake (designed pr-war by my Dad) front brake was British Hub Co., hub brake gears were Cyclo 3speed.

We had been invited by one of my Dads army mates to stay with them one night at Highbridge that is on the A38 just this side of Bridgewater. We set off about 7am going via Ashby, Measham, Coleshill, Kenilworth, Warwick, Stratford, Evesham then Cirencester and on to Bristol. By this time Jean had “had it” there was a Leatheries saddle fitted to the rear seat and this had gone like “wash leather” I swapped the B17 from the front and she was then O.K .We had tea at Bristol near the Airport at the top a hill near a reservoir. Jean was in a bad state so we stayed there for bed & breakfast we were only 15 mile from our destination, we could not let our friends know as phones were non-existant. We arrived at about 11 a.m. and dads friends seemed very upset at our non-arrival the previous night. We had lunch then cycled over to Burnham-on-Sea returning to have dinner with the less than amicable friends.

We left next morning, travelling via Taunton,Axminster and then down to Sidmouth where we stayed at a B & B place. We had a look round Sidmouth admiring its sandy beach and scenic sanstone and chalk cliffs. We had a swim before returning to breakfast on freshly caught mackeral. Leaving Sidmouth, climbing the steep hill out of town, we travelled along the coast road to our lunch stop at Beer Head, ever onwards to our next B & B at Lymme Regis, We found a brilliant palce to eat – a ‘British Restaurant’ set up during the war as cheap eating places for the workers, and this one was still operating. A 3 course meal could be had for 3s 6p (17½ p) we were happy to stay here for 2 days before making our way home. We had some excitement though., coming down a steep hill between Evesham and Stratford, a lorry was heading straight for us on the wrong side of the road – with our brakes we had no chance! On the side of the road and standing in a line, there was 3 Stanton concrete pipes – about 6ft in dianeter. I aimed through these, heart in mouth, and came out the other side. That was a close call.

We eventually arrived home on Friday night, the next day being ‘August Bank Holidayy’ Saturday. Long Eaton Urban District were holding a cycle & athletic meeting on West Park, I had entered but didn’t fancy my chances after the tandem episode. However, in front of a massive crowd I managed to clear the board by winning all 3 races, and was my dad proud! Later that same year he was to see me win the hillclimb – a perfect way to end the season.

The annual Club Dinner that year was held jointly with Derby Mercury at the Pavillion Hotel on Station Road (now closed) and proved to be one of the most successful and boisterous dinners I had been to. In 1946 there were no ‘drink & drive’ rules so it would be an understatement to say everyone was happy. Alan Salt masterminded the raffle which was a financial success – he was selling the counrtfoil as well! We had several inter club ‘do’s’ at that time with Derby Mercury, a very successful dance being held at the Blue Ball, Risley in early 1947.

#022 Loss of Alan

2008-03-11T09:36:00.001Z

In 1945 my younger brother Ernie had been demobbed from the Royal Navy, he had been stationed on a Tank Landing Craft. After disembarking their tanks on the “D” day beaches at Arromarche their engine broke down and they were caught in the post “D” day storms for three days before they where towed back to Poole Harbour. He was later sent to India, but on the dropping of the atom bombs on Nagasaki and Hiroshima their landing craft became obsolete, the Japanese surrendering.

My Dad sent Ernie to manage the College Street shop. The house at the rear of this shop also became vacant and shortly after this Ernie got married and lived there (He is still living there and raised two daughters and one son there. His son, Alan who is now a an International Bike technician with the US Postal team, which includes (1999) Tour de France winner Lance Armstrong, now runs that shop.

The previous year, my youngest brother Alan had been called up to the Fleet Air Arm and after several months in Colchester he was transferred to Burton Wood (later to become an American Air Force base”). He came home on leave and to help him visit on a regular weekend basis, he borrowed a 250cc Triumph 250cc 2H motor cycle produced strangely enough in 1940 - we had “snatched” it back from a non-paying pre-war customer.

One day in June 1946 when we were having a particular horrible day at the shop and it was pouring rain, an urgent phone call came from the Derbyshire Royal Infirmary stating that Alan had been involved in an accident and was in Ward I. Dad remarked that that was the last straw; we had had a horrible day. We dashed over to Derby to find Alan had a gash just above the hairline and scratches on his arms (he wasn’t wearing a helmet, very few did then). He was unconscious but the nurse said he would recover and be OK. This was a rather optimistic forecast as it was soon apparent that he had fluid on the brain, he died three days later.

Dad never recovered from this blow, the trouble being that he bottled up his feelings. The funeral was a sad affair the Chapel being packed. We felt like throwing all our stock of motorcycles in the nearby canal. Of course life had to go on. We went up to the top of Swinscoe hill near Ashbourne where the accident had happened, and it was obvious that the Triumph had had a front wheel puncture and Alan, trying to control his machine, had run off the road, hitting his head on a stonewall, the bike being hardly damaged.

#021 H.E. Buttlers

2008-03-10T17:09:00.002Z

My dad had acquired a property – number 44 & 46 College Street, (formerly Alan Buttler Cycles) this had two houses and a garage. One house was empty, the other was let. We moved in the early part of 1946 into the empty house bringing the youngest boy with us.

The war was over (in Europe May 8^th) and some of the lads came home and started racing again, they were to be a strong force to be reckoned with in 1946. The shop was getting busier, spares where gradually getting easier as firms changed from war to peacetime production. Most people had “bikes” so the workshops where very busy. We also had a delivery of our first post war new motorcycle a B.S.A. 250cc sidevalve model. The only difference from pre-war that it was fitted with the new telescopic front forks (the idea being obtained by the undercarriage from aircraft, if fact Dowty made the front tele forks that were to be fitted to the early Velocette motorcycles). It was difficult to obtain motorcycles and bikes at this time but we managed quite well. “Sun” Cycle Co were very good to us as was Elswick Hopper Cycles and especially Claud Butler in Clapham Manor Street in South London. Claud supplied us with cycles and plenty of rims and hubs, both standard and sprints. Unfortunately he ran foul of the Inland Revenue, failing to pay them Purchase Tax on goods supplied to his customers. Claud had an excellent frame builder, who built all Reg Harris Frames and forks. Claud also built me a Reg Harris replica frame and I also ordered a similar frame for Bill Thompson and Ron Minton.

Holdsworthy Factoring Co where also a good firm for lightweight spares as was Ron Kitching of Harrogate and Harry Moseley of Birmingham. Standard cycle parts where obtained from Lloyd & Co and Joseph Bourne and E Reece & Co all at Birmingham. By this time we had got our pre-war Morris 8 series “E” ready for the road, it had been used as a store for mudguards during the war. My dad would not use the car during the war has is idiom was that we should not fritter away petrol when the Merchant Navy were having tankers sunk by submarines every day. We had the car painted by Tom Oakley & Sons of Queen St - it looked like brand new. As parts were hard to obtain locally we started to go Birmingham, Coventry and London to collect same. Its seems incredible now that we could leave an order with the various firms in Birmingham at 9 a.m. and pick up the parts the same day around 5.30 p.m. Most factories were open until 6 p.m. So the route was first to Triumph at Meriden, on to Francis Barnett in Priory Street, Coventry where the stores manager packed the order whilst you waited, he had all the part numbers in his head, most of these dedicated men were walking computers. (When computers were eventually installed, service went out the window, we had to post our orders and then wait three days for us to collect). After leaving Francis Barnett we went through the lanes after Stonebridge X roads to Royal Enfield at Redditch. They had a different lunch break to the other firms i.e. they closed from 1 till 2 p.m., Enfield also completed your order whilst you waited.

On leaving Enfield next stop was Ariel Motors who also did a ‘while you wait’ service. We then stopped at James and Watsonian leaving our orders. On to B.S.A. in Montgomery St., our orders were left there. Then a mad dash down the A45 to Meriden to pick up our orders from Triumph. A smart return to Birmingham to go to Sun Cycle and Norton Motorcycles in Bracebridge Street, and Aston Brook St. Another mad dash across the city to pick the completed orders from Watsonian, James and B.S.A. We occasionally went to Velocette in Hall Green and every time to a Motor Cycle factor named John Milverton & Son. They always made us a cup of tea, they were first of all located with Watsonian Sidecars, and eventually they moved to premises in Coventry Road. They were excellent suppliers of Motor Cycle accessories. With the car loaded to the roof and the boot jammed solid we would head for home. On arrival at the shop about 7 p.m. there would be a queue waiting for the parts we had brought back, what a mad scramble that was, sorting each person’s specific needs. All this augured well for the future as word got round the whole Nottingham and Derby area that at last someone was prepared to give the customer good service. It is little realised now that no shop could sell any goods below or over price, there were government regulations called the “Retail Price Maintenance Board” so the competition those days was to give top class service, this was how our business prospered . (Retail Price maintenance was abolished in 1964 by one vote in Parliament)

#020 Married Life

2008-03-10T17:07:00.001Z

I managed to win the Nottingham track league once again in 1944, in October Jean and I married so I missed the hillclimb. Getting married was a cultural shock to me, going from a close family background and a high living standard - (I am not a snob) – and moving to a council house where my wife lived, looking after her four brothers, the youngest being 12. Her father who was bedridden lived in the front room; her mother had died some 7 years previous. Food was rationed at the time and the arguments we had over that were unbelievable. Eventually we settled down, I biked to work from there (Longmoor Lane, Breaston). I used an old bike for work and - as I had stored my racing bike - my wife thought I had packed up! She had quite a shock when I started training again at the gym and on the road on Sundays.

Towards the end of 1944 I tried to settle down to married life but found life very boring and finding it difficult to stay in after a lifetime of going on club runs Sundays. I resumed my gym twice a week introducing my brother- in- law Keith to this life, so fitness for cycle racing was still in my mind. Early in 1945 my bike was brought out. I checked it all over and started training with the chain gang, which started from our shop front at 7 p.m. One particular night that year sticks out more than any - that was the night that the future Commonwealth Games champion came out with us for the first time, we went up Donington hill and the “Stairs” towards Ashby. I dropped Ray Booty on the “Stairs”, he never forgave me. (In 1955 I was picked as mechanic for my first International assignment for England. Ray was in the team and on the first day in Prague he asked me to go out training with him, he tore me apart and when I caught them up at a roadside monument - representing the furthest advance of General Patton in 1944-. Ray announced that he got his own back for “dropping him on that same club training spin some 10 years previous, he’s like an elephant!).

My father-in-law had a small win on the pools, £125 to be exact, he wanted a car and his eldest son Douglas found one - a Morris 12/4 in. good condition apart from the tyres, the garage said they would see to them. These tyres were 5.00X19 and at that time were unobtainable, so they fitted second hand. I took my father-in-law out for his first ride, the month was January, and he sat at the back. With topcoat and scarves and a hot water bottle we had moved 20 yds, the nearside rear window was slightly open, a young boy threw a snowball at us, it went through the small aperture of the window and hit my father-in-law on the chest, what a good start.

The following Sunday the whole family decided to go to Skegness, it seems unbelievable now but none of them had seen the sea. We set off early, it was bitterly cold, and we went through Grantham, Boston, on the long straight in to Donnington a loud explosion occurred, the nearside tyre had blown off the rim. On examination we found a patch had been stuck on the inside of the tyre, this had caught on the inside wing arch causing the blowout. We changed the wheel, as this one was useless, we had seven deflations on the way to Skegness! Every one of them was a tyre off chore, what a good job I had brought tyre levers and a large tube of solution plus a 36” roll of Dunlop patching, and we used the lot. Skegness was at its usual winter best, we stayed about an hour then returned home only having one puncture.

The shop was getting busier, parts were becoming a little easier to obtain (1945) and I had written to our pre war suppliers of motorcycles especially BSA, Triumph & Royal Enfield. Replies were received stating that when the war finished they would consider giving us an Agency. Late in 1945 my father-in-law died and the eldest boy left home to get married.

#019 Training in Wales

2008-03-10T17:06:00.000Z

Easter 1944 soon came along, and training runs to Wales. We set off Good Friday morning going our usual way via Shardlow, Aston, Weston and Wellington and so on to the A38 where we had arranged to meet Gerry Beechinor. He arrived very late, the reason he gave us was that he had been fitting a home made “Oss” type 3 speed gear, the operating lever was fitted to the RH seat stay. Why he had to fit this gear when we were all on “fixed” we’ll never know. He had to “fix” it one gear anyway because every time he changed gear the chain derailed. The other members of this group were Bas Butler and Kenny Redgate. We had dinner at Wellington, on examining my bike I found the locking nut on my front brake had shaken off. The nearest “bike shop” was Ernie Clements at Donnington in Shropshire only two miles away. Ernie served us himself, the shop then was only a “front room affair,” he had trouble, but he did find a nut for this then modern “Ambra Superga” brake.

We carried on along the A5 passing through Shrewsbury, then on the Welshpool road, still no sign posts, and we had to be good map-readers. Just before you cross the river Severn, about a mile from Welshpool we turned left, then up the hill to Long Mynd, we were due to stop at the Welsh Harp Youth Hostel, unfortunately they could only put “Bas” and Ken up. Gerry and I did a dive downhill in to Welshpool. The road crosses many diagonal roads and when you hit one of these roads you were thrown off your seat almost touching weak parts on your handlebar stem, still with only one brake you did not stand much chance. We managed to get bed & breakfast at a Temperance Hotel. My brother Ernie had given me an ex-Royal Navy belt when he was last on leave and I was wearing it, the woman proprietor of the hotel thought I was on leave from the Navy and with this in mind we had the best food imaginable. This hotel is the now fashionable Royal Oak Hotel near the traffic lights in Welshpool. We met the other two the next morning, just by luck, as we (Gerry & I) were in the act if buying a bottle of milk from the Co-op horse and cart.

We set off towards Llanfair Caereinion, the railway started in the middle of town then, we stopped at Dinas- Mawddwy for lunch, somebody there tried to tempt us up the Bwlch-y-groes pass - good job we did not try it,. the other road is bad enough up to Cross Foxes. It was snowing and misty on top of the pass, when out of the gloom appeared a load of cyclists from Derby Mercury. These included Derek Wilkins, “Hambone” Broadhurst and Les “Flog” Hazlehurst, these were to be good mates for years. We had a chatted for a while - they were going home they had had enough of the weather. We carried on to Dolgellau where we stopped at the Aber Café (it is still in business 1999). The proprietors could not believe the food we ate, the waitress shouting to the kitchen “Another loaf for the cyclists”. In the evening we had a race in to Barmouth but we didn’t stay long as the Army were parading on the main square, they were billeted in all the large boarding houses at the rear of the square. Easter Sunday found us leaving Dolgellau and so on some byroads passing the lake at Trawsfyndd (now the site of a nuclear power station). Through the unknown byroads to Ysbt-ifan to the A5 where we turned right on to the A5 towards Corwen. We were now very tired and hungry and on reaching Pentre Foelas, Baz announced if we turned right down this narrow track we would arrive -after a ten mile ride - at a farm where we could get a good meal. We protested about the 10-mile, but he was kidding us it was only one mile, we had a marvellous meal there. Staying the night at a pub at Pentre Foulas, we had a good night.

Up early as usual we wended our way along the A5 through Corwen, Llangollen and Rhuaboin then through Overton. We knew this road very well as previous tales have told. We never mastered the route around Whitchurch area again getting lost, finishing up at Market Drayton deadbeat and hungry. Being clever I announced that things would be OK when we reached Stone as I remembered the chip shop from our previous excursions. We eventually arrived at Stone, but to the displeasure of my pals the chip shop was closed. Two American soldiers came up to us and on seeing how downcast we were they asked us the problem; we informed them how far we had ridden and that we were all “bonked” out. These Americans were terrific ambassadors of their country, we were whisked off in a lorry with our bikes to their camp and treated to a most marvellous meal of “T” bone steaks, pineapple and ice cream and the most gorgeous coffee; we had not seen food like that since pre war and even then nothing to come up to that. Contrary to all tales of the “Yanks” these where superb. We rode home on a cloud.

#018 Begining of the knee troubles

2008-03-10T17:05:00.001Z

1943 dawned with us at Hartington Youth Hostel once more. We had done the usual thing i.e. big meal, then down to the Charles Cotton for drinks and singsong. We returned to the hostel, there were a lot of “Rock & Ice” climbers there and we soon engaged in some rough games, one of these was “two four six eight ten” and off again. This game entailed one man as a pillar then six bent down causing one long back whilst the other team jumped on your back “hobby horse style”. Everything was OK until I had about three big climbers on my back and with legs slightly apart I couldn’t flex my knee and with that weight on my back my knee joint broke. The pain was terrific and my knee was like a football. I didn’t get much sleep that night, the next morning was another cross bar job with me wheeling my bike by the handlebars as well. I caught the train from Ashbourne (station is closed now although Derbyshire CC have levelled the track and it is used by cyclists and walkers and called the Tissington Trail). I attended the doctors; he just said bathe it in lead lotion as hot as you can bare I did this and the swelling went down. I still had trouble with this knee (and 53 years later continue to do so - I’m waiting for a knee joint operation 1999). Racing was curtailed by this accident but eventually I began to feel OK and was doing well in the grass track at Nottingham, in fact I was leading by a small margin from another “5 miler” Arthur Stokes.

We had entered for Sports Meeting at Kynoch in Birmingham, sponsored by I.C.I we had also entered at Market Bosdworth and Hugglesscote it was the August holidays. Lo and behold on the Thursday before the August Bank Holiday I was called in to Derby Royal Infirmary to have my knee sorted out. I was ‘flying’ at the time and was really disappointed especially as I didn’t get my operation done till the Wednesday after the Aug hols. I was in hospital three weeks. A spinal injection had been administered - toes couldn’t be touched for months after that. I had my cartilidges removed from my left knee. I rode in a 10 ml Time Trial on the then new Nottingham course doing a 29 odd ride. My brother Alan (unfortunately killed in 1946 on my Motorbike) broke the course record with an amazing ride of 21 min 15 sec this record stood for many years. In my absence he had won every event in the Nottingham Track League enabling me to win the Championship and the Club to win the Team. My other brother, Ernie, had taken 2^nd in the ¼ and ½ mile events, Dave Holmes taking 3^rd – Blos Catchpole had taken 3^rd place in the 5-mile. The hillclimb venue was changed for this year - away from tradition, to Piston Hill near Melbourne and not Monsal Dale. My younger brother Alan excelled, winning by a large margin from Dave Holmes. Alan was called up into the Fleet Air Arm shortly after this event, depriving him of a great cycling career.

Hostelling again came in to the equation even going as far as Dimmingsdale and Windgather Cottage during the winter 1943/44. Early in 1944 I started courting,her name was Jean Woodward, she worked as a part time Station Master at sawley Junction this curtailed my racing or rather training, this - coupled with my new job at the shop – and standing all day my fitness inevitably declined. That year, the NCU cycling body transferred our club to Derby Centre from Nottingham, this enabled us to ride on the municipal track at Derby as well as the grass track at Nottingham. A large meeting was held that year at Whitsuntide at Derby, and a large crowd attended. The entry was excellent - Lou Pond, Reg Harris, Tommy Godwin, Wally Box, Lloyd Binch, Reg. Morton. Jim Turner rode brilliantly only being narrowly beaten by Reg. Harris. The other event of the day was the NCU National 25-ml Championship; I had ridden in the other events but had lost my “zip”. I did however finish 4^th in this event which was won by Tommy Godwin with Jim Turner 2^nd. I lost the Nottingham track league title, yet I did not lose one 5mile event all season, was hopeless in the sprints.

#017 From Grass to Shale

2008-03-10T17:04:00.002Z

After about 15 months at Burton my Dad asked me to come and work for him in the office at the shop, most of his men had been called up - including my brother Ernie who was with the Royal Navy - apart from Les Senescal who did cycle repairs. I had enjoyed my work at Burton Foundry and was loath to leave but under the circumstances I had little choice. I had made quite good friends of Stan Hadfield, Bill Woods and John Armson - three colleagues who worked in the same office. We had an hour and a half for lunch so in summer and on borrowed bikes we went swimming at Drakelow Deeps on the river Trent (now the site of a large power station). In the winter we swam at the local swimming baths. In July that year the Burton-on-Trent “holidays at home committee” were promoting an Open Athletic & Cycling Sports Meeting and I had sent in my entry. Stan now has a successful motor cycle business in Burton (his dad had had a cycle business at the time I was in Burton). I was to meet Stan and his wife in later years at ‘promotions’ held by Honda. Bill Woods was killed in Lancaster bombers and John Armson was a Spitfire pilot. (When I was working in Llanidloes last year, a girl came to work for us who was originally from Moira near Swadlicote where John had lived. She suggested I ring him up, I did and much to my sorrow his wife informed me he had died the previous week, I felt gutted).

July soon came round and the date of the Sports at Burton. We travelled by train to Burton, going from Trent Junction (another station axed by the Beeching debacle in 1966) We only paid for passenger fare hoping our bikes would be put in the guards van without us having to pay. Just before the train was due, the Stationmaster came along and asked were we taking our bikes with us. Norman turned to me in all innocence and asked “are we taking our bikes to-day?” the station master laughed knowing full well that we were racing somewhere that day, he did let us put them in the guards van with no charge.

We arrived at the cricket ground with plenty of time to try out the track, Norman suggested I raise my gear because the track was fast. My event soon came along it was a half-mile scratch for riders who hadn’t won a prize, this being my first open event confirmed by acceptance. With Norman’s guidance I won my heat. The final came, I had terrific support from my work mates all the foundry employee’s seemed to be there. We started off slowly the first lap, and on the second lap with two corners to negotiate Norman shouted “Up Alf”. I put my head down, winning the event from Jim Turner of Derby Ivanhoe who was eventually to ride for Benny Fosters East Midland C.C. circus and be very successful too. (We were to see him beat Lou Pond and Reg. Harris in a Champion scratch event at Derby some five years hence). Coming home in the train from Burton, Jim Turner came in the compartment with us, I proudly showed off my prize by placing it on the seat (the prize was a chiming mantelpiece clock). Jim then told us he had set is heart on winning the clock, he wanted to present it to his landlady he had lived with after his parents died, these good people were Jack “Bocka” Wright, parents of Derby Mercury and Road Club fame.

After the Burton ‘do’ Norman Casswell was called in to the Navy, what a big loss to us he was. However the track league at Nottingham was still going strong, new people were joining Lloyd Binch, “Lol” Wilson and “Hervy” Turner and Ron Meadwell. At a National NCU meeting held in Manchester, Arthur Spurgin went along with an idea to enter us in a inter city event between Sheffield, Manchester and Nottingham. We had only ridden grass and this comedian had challenged the best riders in the land on a red shale track. This time we did go by train getting there early to get a feel of the track, Bas put his bike on the track and his front tyre blew off the rim followed seconds later by the rear, we only had old tubulars. Mostly repaired by hand, that put us down to two Ashley and myself, we had got no chance. The other teams were Reg. Harris (just invalided from the tank Corp) Alan Banister both due to ride the Olympics in 1948, Cliff Beldam, Laurie Dodd, Jack Atkinson, Jim Postlewait and many more I cannot recall, they had six riders each, we had two. The events were quarter and half mile scratch, a 4000 metre Pursuit and - new to me- an Italian Pursuit. We were beaten in every event, the hardest being the Italian Pursuit as we had to double up, me doing the last lap. I’ve never been so knackered. The shale track was wet and we had no idea what gear to put on, what a shambles. I didn’t go to Fallowfield for many years after that, (and that was to take Johnny Aslin to a motor paced event when he was a Pro with Falcon, and then they lent me a duff bike). My memories of Fallowfield are not good.

#016 Mrs Boams House and London Track

2008-03-10T16:39:00.001Z

My dad had my frame chrome plated later on that year and it looked great. A few weeks after the chroming, we went on training run to Winster, on going up Via Gellia it was decided that the first to Mrs Boam’s house at Winster would have his prize of a free dinner. At that time I was having trouble getting shoes for my daft deformed feet, I had managed to buy a pair of running shoes (Gerry Beechinor of Derby Ivanhoe giving me the idea). I filed off the spikes and fitted leather blocks and while they were new everything was OK, but as they got looser with wear, I had to bandage my feet because my right anklebone hit the crank. Anyway I got to Mrs Boams house first, this is situated at the top of a narrow steep hill, I applied the front brake, kicking back on my pedals at the same time (yes I had got a locking ring fitted). My feet pulled out of my shoes and my front brake cable snapped. I was then going down the hill knowing there was a left-hand bend and after that the main road with a big plate glass shop window on the opposite side. I reached the apex of the left-hand bend and noticed the door of a cottage on the right was slightly ajar. I hit the door and, as it was slightly rotten, the whole door collapsed, crashing into the dining table, all laid for Sunday dinner - I landed in the middle. The people jumped up screaming “take him out of here” I was taken into next door, leaving my crashed bike in the middle of the debris. By this time the other lads arrived on the scene saw all the blood and thought I was dead, I had only knocked the thumb nail of my right hand and the middle finger of my left hand, otherwise I was OK. I can remember screaming before I hit the door, the next thing I was laughing my head off with relief for not doing any damage. We all had dinner at Mrs Boams I remember her asking me how the lad was who gone through the door, she had not realised it was me because of my lack of injuries, wasn’t I lucky! To get to Darley Dale station for my journey home I carried what was left of my bike on my shoulder and sat on Norman’s crossbar. I had to change at Derby station and felt the biggest fool in shorts with my thin calves. Dad quickly repaired my bike, it had to have new seat stays and a new cam tube to the front forks and two new wheel rims, the last two black 27” we had in stock.

Early in 1942, Whitsuntide to be exact, Norman Casswell and I sent our entries to Paddington Recreation Ground Track entering for the two scratch races and the 5-mile events. Quite a few of the lads wished to come along so we booked accommodation at Highgate YHA. The event was to be held on Whit Sunday. We met outside our Shop on Saturday morning leaving there about 9 am. We had dinner at Woburn Sands eventually arriving at Highgate just after 5 p.m. We had ridden all that way with our sprint wheels on sprint carriers still with one front brake and saddlebags full. We checked in with a warden, booked a meal, got changed and came down for the meal, it was egg & chips. Baz asked for sauce and the Warden asked him if he required tomato or brown. Baz said he would like tomato, he thought the warden would get this but the warden gave him instructions, Baz with difficulty found the pantry to fetch the sauce himself (the house was an old Victorian mansion). Baz sat down next to the warden who dressed immaculate wearing a lovely white shirt. Baz shook the bottle, the top was loose the sauce came out covering the warden! We were up early the next morning did our duties then worked on the bikes getting them in track trim we rode right through London with no brakes. We won our heats in the quarter and the half-mile events but didn’t survive the semi-finals. We did however manage to win the 5-mile event 1^st and second. What a disappointment we had when the Judges disqualified us because the event was only open to London based clubs. We had ridden well when you think we were up against such as Lou Pond, Ernie Mills and Sid Cousins, with the exception of Norman, it was our first race on a hard track. Norman had ridden at Derby Municipal Track, this track was like a bowl - flat at the bottom but steep banking higher up, our club joined the their track league in 1944.

On Sunday night we toured London via the underground, we were amazed to see people living on the platforms of the underground stations to get away from the bombing. There was no bombing that night; it certainly made us realise how lucky we were to live in Long Eaton. The WRVS were selling large Lyons fruit pies down there; we had about six or seven each, we hadn’t seen these since pre-war. We were up early the next day, got the bikes ready for the road, fitting mudguards etc. We departed the hostel at 10 a.m. calling again at Woburn Sands for dinner, (obviously a good place) It rained all the way home, but with a gale behind us we donned our capes (as a sail) we were home in six hours. I remember Norman Casswell (always with electric wit) saying as we breasted Netherfield Lane railway bridge (road now closed for A50) “Ah Long Eaton, it is a long time since we’ve eaten”.

Early in 1941 I was transferred to Burton Foundry Co, doing the same job but Allied Ironfounders had taken over and all our manufacture was transferred to Burton, actually only two of us were taken there the other man being the fitting shop Forman. Whilst still at Sandiacre we had with us a pattern maker for all the different castings, what marvellous men these were making everything in wood so a pattern could put in the black sand for iron moulding. We had a cupolo for melting the iron ore which came from Stanton just up the road, Early in 1939 the firm had orders for bedplates for Lathes manufactured by Myford Engineering Co at Beeston. The first rough castings looked OK but when Myford tried to machine big blowholes appeared - what a disaster. We had to employ a metallurgist, the cupola men had thrown coke pig iron and scrap just as they had for rainwater pipe, guttering and fire grates. The metallurgist soon put this right. My cousin Maurice, who was metallurgist at Vickers in Attercliffe Sheffield, thought it was a huge joke.

#015 1941 and the Nottingham Track League

2008-03-10T16:19:00.002Z

We were fortunate enough to continue Youth Hostelling throughout 1941. One particular time at Hartington, Gordon Rouse came home on leave and came with us to the Hostel. We had dinner then walked down to the Charles Cotton pub where we had plenty to drink and then a good singsong. We left there at about 10pm and entered the Village Dance, the ticket office was a small hole in the wall, Gordon put his sailor hat over the hole and we all trooped without paying. On entering the dance hall Gordon went on the stage, he got hold of the microphone and announced that the next dance would be a “Snake Dance” and all those idiots who had snaked in without paying would they please snake out again and pay!

That same winter quite a few of us had taken dancing lessons (yes, even me) so we were anxious to show off our prowess. I was hopeless but I did meet a girl, her name was Rosalie Crutchley. She lived 3 miles away at a small hamlet called Sheen, Frank Clay another close mate was with Rosalie’s sister, we decided to walk these girls home. Norman was to leave a window open in the hostel kitchen because we were supposed to be in the hostel by 11 p.m. We walked the girl’s home, a small kiss and then walked back to the hostel. We arranged to meet them the next day in the country but it rained and spoilt the day, Norman was there too making choice remarks, so the effort was spoilt. We met these girls for about three weeks after this, then the whole thing fizzled out. The girls were lovely looking with smashing dispositions - we have never forgotten them. The reason for telling this tale is what happened some 50 years later, I was working at Llanidloes at a Peugeot garage as a Parts Manager, when in came a lady awaiting service on her car. She sat down in our office and from my accent she asked me if I was from Derbyshire, I obviously said yes whereupon she asked me if I knew Derbyshire or rather the Peak District. It appeared she went for a holiday the year before and stayed at Crutchleys - the same farm where we had walked the two sisters. The customer said they were both married now and had children, one of the girls being the spitting image of her lovely mother and that Rosalie was as beautiful as ever, how’s that for a small world?

1941 saw a lot of clubmen called up to the various services but we still managed to race and have club runs. On one particular run to Bradgate Park we met up with members of Long Eaton Wheelers, this was an offshoot of Beeston Wheelers. They were deflated by members being called up so we decided to join forces, this meeting brought “Bas” Butler and Bert Humpries into our club, these two will appear many times in this story. At that time, spring 1941, we had a Frenchman join the club, he had been to Bradgate Park before and was very proud to show us rough English the “echo stone”. You entered a small cleft in the rock (only room for one) then you shouted some expletive and the echo rang round about ten times from the distant hills, how he found this out I’ll never know.

The same year also saw the birth of Nottingham Track League. On one Monday night we had been to a meeting at Freddie Grettons house to formulate this, Notts. Castle B.C. Bill Berresford was in the chair, what a cycling stalwart he was, Arthur Spurgin of Broad Oak was also there (there will be more of him later in first “Peace Race” I was to go on in 1955.) The upshot of the meeting was that the first track league competition would start the next Wednesday night on the Embankment near the WW1 memorial in Nottingham, the track was to be marked out the following night by the Nottingham members, we need not attend, we were informed! On the following night we went down to our grass track training spot, this was situated on the Sawley flood bank on the Trentside in one of Grammers fields just over the wooden bridge. (This was an old bridge used for horses towing barges down the Trent & Mersey canal, it was washed away in the great floods in 1947, it has been replaced by a metal bridge joined to the side of the Railway Bridge).

We had marked out a half mile stretch on the top of this quite level grass path, we also had our “marks” marked out (Norman Casswell was on Scratch). We had several races that night and afterwards we decided to go over to Nottingham to see how the Track was looking. It would have been about 8 p.m. by then but as “double summertime” was in operation it was still light till almost 11 p.m. We arrived Nottingham about 9 p.m. and all we could see at the site was Bill Berresford, Arthur Spurgin and Frankie Hippey looking decidedly dejected. Nothing had been done. We took over, marked out the track put in the corner pegs, painted the marks and really did a good job (no danger of anyone pinching the pegs in those days). The following night the first Nottingham N.C.U. Track League commenced, it was a huge success from the word go, thousands of spectators out for an evening stroll by the Trent were spellbound and turned up every week to watch and be entertained.

There were some good riders there too in those early days, Arthur Hunt, Cyril Harpur, Les Davies (later of Derby Mercury fame) Joe Ablutt, Jim Cockayne as well as riders from my own club i.e. Norman Casswell, “Blos” Catchpole, “Bas” Butler, my two brothers Ernie and Alan. Our club was to win the first Team Prize and I luckily won the individual events, I had hell of a tussle with Joe Ablutt who was brilliant in the 5-mile events. We had quite a duel, the only way I could beat him was to sit on his wheel from the start and then try and pass him on the last lap. Norman Casswell was our mentor, he was a brilliant sprinter, winning most of ¼ mile events, and he was to coach that great International rider Eric Thompson after the war years.

Later on that same year my Dad built me a new track frame, he built it one Saturday afternoon. We built it up polishing the bare frame, painting the lugs black then rode to Wymeswold Youth Hostel for the weekend. We detected a bad name with the warden there, a Mrs Bishop, (we were to encounter the Bishop family at many more hostels in the future). The next morning we had all the rough duties, washing up for everybody, cleaning the ‘self cookers’ kitchen, we also did a job we didn’t know we had to do, that was repairing the wood burning stove. We had chopped a lot of wood, so we decided to light the stove, of course smoke poured out, we found on examination that the smoke damper was rusted in. We repaired this and the stove worked a treat. Our prestige went up 100%; we were always welcome at Wymeswold after this.

#014 Touring in Wales

2008-03-10T16:12:00.001Z

Early in 1941 just before Gordon Roose and Bill Barrowclif where called up , we decided to go to Wales for a week long tour. The other pal being Norman “Bloss” Catchpole and of course myself. We set off early one Saturday morning going via Aston, Weston, Willington and so on to the main road to Uttoxeter, Stone, Audlem, Whitchurch where we took a wrong turn - the lack of any signposts did not help - , we missed the turn off to Overton on Dee and so ended up at Wrexham. A kind man put us on the road to Rhuabon and on arriving there we went over the railway bridge towards the Monsanto works and so past the canal to Llangollen where we had lunch after a 90 mile non-stop ride. We left Llangollen travelling via Corwen, Betts-y-Coed where we had tea then on to Capel Curig turning left there to go over the Llanberris pass.

We had a smashing run down Llanberris Pass, on to Caernarfon where we stayed in small cottage near the famous castle. We had our evening meal then a walk round the castle where we had fun on the ramparts. On walking up to the town square Norman who wore “pebble” type glasses said “look at that man standing on top of that bus”. We glanced up and sure enough it did appear so, the reason being that the bus was parked at the side of a statue of Lloyd George. The next day we went on towards Harlech going via a load of slate mines near to Blaeno Ffestinioig ( I was to visit these underground mines years later when I took two French pals of mine who were working with me at Barratts, Plas Talgarth in 1990.) We of course toured the castle at Harlech it was free then. After that visit we went on to Talybont beach where Norman had been camping with the Sandiacre scout group the previous year, we didn’t like it so we went on to Barmouth where we stayed the night. Barmouth then was like an army camp with men drilling on the esplanade. The cinema was open (it was a converted Church) so we went there. We had a large breakfast the next morning, cheked over the bikes and so on to Dolgellau where we booked in at Aber Café (still there 1999). We had a midday meal, then decided to go to Aberystwyth we climbed out towards Cross Foxes then down the beautiful Tal-y-llyn pass leaving the lake on the right. Passing thro Corris we had a look at the narrow gauge railway which took the quarried slate down to Machynlleth station (now closed). Eventually we arrived at Aberystwyth going down the steep hill then turning right on to the sea front, we rode to the end of the promenade towards the cliff railway. This is a deadend, we had a quick discussion deciding we didn’t like the place and promptly returned to Dolgellau.

After a large meal (we almost ate the café’s whole stock of food) we retired to bed. Up early next morning we left Dolgellau then up the winding hilly road to Cross Foxes turning left towards Dinas Mawddwy to Welshpool. We went through Bangor-on-Dee missing the road to Whitchurch completely, got hopelessly lost finishing up miles off course at Wem where we were able to pick up the road to Whitchurch then on to our regular stopping place - the fish & chip shop at Stone. (I was to visit this chip shop with my young son Alan in 1985, it was run by Pakistanis, they where quite interested in the history). Fed, watered and rejuvinated, we continued the journey home and so ended a terrific tour, we all spent less than £4 for the whole week.

#013 1940 - Touring in Wales and Somerset

2008-03-10T15:43:00.001Z

We trained hard for the 1940 season but of course, by now quite a few club members had been called up. One of these, Tommy Fox, was stationed just this side of Bakewell. Most Sundays we called in there to see him, we had gone over Rowsley Bar and into Stanton woods, had dinner at Alport, then through Lathkill Dale and home, in the dark of course. I have been so ‘knackered’ that I could hardly ride up Cemetery and Cherry Hill in Derby, crawling through Borrowash, Draycott and Breaston then down Wilsthorpe Lane and home.

1940 was really my first full season of bike racing. I won the Handicap cup by one second from my best mate Gordon Rouse. Early in 1940 the Air Ministry formed the Air Training Corps, Gordon Rouse and his brother Eddie (soon to be a Naval Officer in Corvette’s on Atlantic convoys) and I were the first to join. Major Hobson was in charge and we learnt Algebra and Navigation. Gordon was called up - I failed my medical with flat feet.

Club champion Les Thompson, Johnny Slack and Track Champion Eric Barnes and Monty Burton, Vic Mills and Stan Ballard were all sent to the colours. Even so, new people were joining the club and we had a good secretary in Edna Catchpole, her brothers Norman and Frank also joined the club. Whitsuntide 1940 saw me with Fred Hillier on our third tour, this time to Wales. We set off on Saturday morning the weather was perfect, the news was that the Germans had invaded France -. As a precaution should we be invaded, all signposts had been removed, so we memorised the route going through Uttoxeter, Stone, Pipe Gate, Woore, (where we stopped to look at the giant steam engine pumping water for the whole of Staffordshire) Whitchurch, Rhuabon and so past the canal and into Llangollen. As we had left home at 4.30am we arrived at Llangollen quite early, in fact about 10am so we climbed the Horseshoes Pass to Ruthin then past Rhuddlan Castle and so into Rhyll. We were accosted by the Military in Rhyll who thought we were paratroopers. Rhyll beach was all barbed wire and military so we went down the coast to Colwyn Bay and Conway. We then returned to Llangollen got some good digs and in the evening we walked up to the castle - quite a climb. I have never repeated this feat although I now live in Wales. We returned home the next day, being stopped many times to produce our Identity Cards. Arriving home about six o’clock we went to Trent Lock and hired rowing boats for the rest of the evening (double summer time was in operation then).

In August that year I went on tour with Norman Caswell to Somerset, his wife Norma was staying at Upton on Severn, we called there to see her and have a meal. Leaving Norma, we rode through Malvern intending to stay at Malvern Links youth hostel, but they were full, we returned to Malvern but couldn’t find anywhere there either so we had to retrace to Cleeve Hill Y.H. where we were able to stay in the annex. Up early next morning, we did our duties and we were soon on the road through Cheltenham, then to Gloucester where we passed the docks. Some quite big timber ships were unloading at Bryant & Mays match factory – long since gone. And so on to Bristol again by the docks, across the swing bridge and up the hill on the A38 and on to Bridgwater, (this being the only flat bit of that day’s tour). Off the A38 we turned left to Cheddar Gorge, we had been going quite fast up till then, in fact I was taking a packet, so naturally I thought we should stop and have a look at Goffs Caves, which comes just before the climb. What a hope I had, as just before the caves a puka racing man came and passed us on sprints and all stripped down, that was a sign for Norman to jump on his wheel and beat him to the top leaving me trailing in their wake. When I did get to Norman his words were “What was that down there with all those rocks each side” - what a bloody idiot. Anyway I took him down Burrington Coome, up Cheddar gorge, on to Wookey Hole where he had a flat in his front wheel. We went through all the necessary procedures but couldn’t find the puncture. The tyre was blown up and stayed up for the rest of the tour.

We stopped and went round Wells Cathedral, then called at Weston Super Mare. The tide has a 33 feet fall, and is the second highest in the world, enabling quite fair sized ships to go up the Avon and in to Bristol – all we saw, the tide being out, was a beach of mud. We went on to Bream Down and stayed at Hutton YHA. This had only opened that year and the Warden was a lady from Ilkeston, so Norman asked if she knew Jo Doner in the Ilkeston dialect whereupon he was answered in pure Queens English, quite a come down for us. We had a good meal there, and then had a walk to look at Steepholm.

The next morning after breakfast we where given our duties Norman, after his run in with the warden, had to wash the pots for about 40 and he had to dry them as well. My duty was chopping down a large bed of nettles, these had stems like tree trunks, and I had almost finished when Norman appeared and as I cut the last one he shouted “timber”. We left the hostel at about 10 a.m. bound for Warwick Castle, this was a Youth Hostel during the war. Our route was via Street, Glastonbury, where we visited the ruined Cathedral, then on to Bath, Chippenham, on the old Fosse Way to Cirencester, Stow on the Wold, Moreton en le Marsh and so to Warwick.

We arrived at the hostel early (well before 5pm). The warden let us in and made us sandwiches and tea, he then produced a map asking us where we had cycled from, “What time did you start?” he asked, we said 10am. He was amazed at the short time we had taken, mind you after Glastonbury we had been doing ‘a two up’. During this ride we were to witness the “Battle of Britain” which was going on overhead, thank God we weren’t in it. The weather had been perfect, not a cloud in the sky. We had a wonderful meal in the evening then a stroll round Warwick. You always feel proud to be walking round towns when you have arrived under your own steam, I have never encountered this feeling by motorbike or car, getting to any place under you own power has this special feeling. The next morning we awoke to wind and rain, we came home thro’ Coventry and saw the terrible war damage, I was to see much worse in Dresden, but that would be 15 year’s later in the 1955 Peace Race. We arrived home for dinner after a real happy tour. I rode a 30 mile Time Trial the Sunday of our return and managed 1hr18m winning 1st handicap and that eventually gave me the Handicap Cup for season 1940.

#012 The War Years

2008-03-10T15:39:00.001Z

It was all history in 1939 as it was obvious when Hitler annexed Slovenia that war was inevitable. Quite a few of the club where called up in the “Militia”. The government had introduced ‘call up’ for age 21 group early, meanwhile my job as a draughtsman came to an end with, the firm closing due to lack of orders. I managed to obtain a job with Excelsior Foundry Co, an offshoot of the Allied Ironfounders Group (later Glynwed). This new post was in a general office and I was sent to a school in Nottingham to learn contompeters. This knowledge of Accounts and Buying was to hold me in good stead for jobs I had much later. The place of work was situated in Sandiacre which is about 4 miles from home and as we had a 1 ½ hour lunch break I was able to cycle home and back easily, this proved to be good training. Early in 1940 I was transferred to Burton Foundry Co, doing the same job but Allied Ironfounders had taken over and all our manufacture was transferred to Burton, actually only two of us were taken there the other man being the fitting shop Forman. Whilst still at Sandiacre we had with us a pattern maker for all the different castings, what marvellous men these were making everything in wood so a pattern could put in the black sand for iron moulding. We had a cupolo for melting the iron ore which came from Stanton just up the road, early in 1939 the firm had orders for bedplates for lathes manufactured by Myford Engineering Co at Beeston. The first rough castings looked OK but when Myford tried to machine big blowholes appeared - what a disaster. We had to employ a metallurgist, the cupola men had thrown coke pig iron and scrap just as they had for rainwater pipe, guttering and fire grates. The metallurgist soon put this right. My cousin Maurice, who was metallurgist at Vickers in Attercliffe Sheffield, thought it was a huge joke.

During the “phoney" war we still hostelled, especially during the winter. We dressed up Hartington hostel for Christmas using local holly and fir trees etc, it looked a picture. In 1933 the Y.H.A. was formed in this country, (by a German idea initially) A German had opened the hostel officially and had planted a tree. Owing to the hate campaign at this time towards the Germans the tree was uprooted and the plaque taken down. Luckily both the tree and the plaque was saved and when 1 took my young son Alan to Hartington in 1995 the tree and the plaque were back in position. Most of the eligible young club members were called up that winter which was a particularly bad winter.

Early in 1940 I had decided to race and with a new mate of mine, Gordon Roose (unfortunately drowned in a submarine in the Aegean in 1942) and with Freddie Hillier we started training under the watchful eye of Norman Casswell. Norman was to be our mentor for many years (wartime Navy duty years interupting this). Our first event early in February 1940 was a 25 mile T.T promoted by Doncaster Wheelers, we stayed the night at Barnby Moor about 40 mile from home. This place was a Transport Café only some 50 yds from the start. We arrived there in time for dinner. The place was run by an ex-racing cyclist named Albert Thorley, he cooked the dinner on an open fire range whilst he was talking to us about his racing and coalmining days. He paused to spit a coal blackened gob over the top of our egg and chips ‑ it almost put us off, (it takes a lot to put cyclists of their food) We then retired to bed – and discovered why the place was called ‘Thorleys bug hut’!. The race started at 7 a.m. and it was so cold. At that time, the RTTC regulation clothing was black, full-length tights and black alpaca jacket - this was supposed to be inconspicuous, we looked like a bunch of crows.

Youth Hostelling continued to play a big part in our weekends during 1939/40. Hartington, Ravenstor, Derwent and Leam Hall being our favourites, we cooked our own food having marvellous evening meals, then down to the pub, back to the common room for a singsong. We dressed Hartington youth hostel up for Christmas using only holly and parts of fir trees, it looked a picture. We stayed home for Christmas meeting on Boxing Day in the Royal Oak pub, which was just across the road from our house/shop. The pub was packed and, with piano and drums in the concert room, everyone had a great time. Early in January 1940 when cycling to work, I broke my left wrist running in to the rear of a white Carter’s pop lorry, which I had not seen in the thick fog. 1940 was a very bad winter and I was off work for three weeks of the worst of the weather. After recovering from this with my wrist still in plaster, we set of early in February on a first training run to Waterhouses of Mrs Hickinbottom fame. Things were ok until we reached Ashbourne then on the climb up Swinscoe we hit snow. We skidded down all the hills, i.e. still on 69” fixed gear with one brake, just locking the back wheel. Of course Norman Casswell had no lock ring fitted, so he had to hold on my shoulder to slow down. Arriving at Waterhouses at 12 noon we knocked on Mrs Hickinbottm’s door and for once she made us welcome, drying our clothes and our shoes, she was so surprised to see us in the foul weather. We did not stay long, although she cooked us a fine meal and supplied us with a dozen eggs each, and gave us each a box and straw to carry them back home. We had difficulty tying the boxes to the rear of our bikes, but we got the eggs home OK much to the pleasure of our parents.

#011 Pre-War Memories

2008-03-10T15:36:00.001Z

Almost forgotten in the thirties was the appearance of Air shows, first we had Fruity Yates and Red McKay, flying an Avro Trainer and a Bristol ex World War 1 fighter. The Avro was used for cheap flights ‑ i.e. only one passenger at a time, the Bristol being used for stunt flights never to be seen again. This all took part on the then so called flying field which is now a Wimpy housing estate, half way along Wilsthorpe Road, later years saw the arrival of Sir Alan Cobham’s Air circus which until 1935 included the De Haviland twin engined plane which, with Scott and Black on board, had recently broken the record for the flight from Croydon to Australia in just over two days. Also in this marvellous show was an early helicopter, 'Cierva Autogiro' and a 'Handley Page’ ex Imperial Airways "Hannibal" ‑ a very large passenger plane. The show also included a De Haviland. Rapide and many small planes such as a "Gypsy Moth" (flown by Chichester on his round-the-world flight). Red McKay still did his stunt flights - a never to be forgotten scene and never to be repeated. It is little known that Sir Alan Cobham was the inventor of in‑flight refuelling.

Football, which had taken hold of me when in hospital, was now a passionate past time. I had picked Arsenal as my team but in 1933 my Uncle Bill who lived at Derby, took me to see Derby County play Arsenal. I was looking forward to seeing my team run out in their crisp red and white strip as seen on coloured photographs. What a disappointment I had when they came out on the then grassless Derby pitch, the red had run into the white so they had pink sleeves. They looked terrible. This team hadn't been beaten that season, but Derby put paid to that beating them 3‑0, Hughie Gallacher scoring a hat trick. It was still good to see in the flesh Arsenal’s Ted Drake, Alex James, Eddie Hapgood, George Male and the Derby side Sammy Crooks and Dally Duncan. I changed my allegiance to Derby from then on and am still a great fan. In fact when I was taking part in the Warsaw to Prague bike race in 1963, I was to meet the whole team when they were playing East Germany in Leipzig (Derby won 3‑1. but more of this later). I'm forgetting we are still at the end of 1938.

After our Hawick trip we settled down to weekly club runs. We had an excellent ‘run’ secretary in Rueben Hutchings. He took us to all the lovely scenic places within an 80-mile radius of Long Eaton. We visited most of the Youth Hostels in the area ‑ especially those in the Peak District, which was to become the first National Park in the land. Late in 1938 Fred Hillier and I were challenged to race in the final event of that year, a 25 mile Time Trial, we were told wrongly to take our time. I sat up all the way to record 1 hr.16 min 58secs. I could have beaten that easily. This event put us off racing for another two years, if only we had been encouraged then. Still we continued touring and Youth Hostelling all that winter. Later in October 1938 we went to see the Long Eaton C.C. hillclimb this was won by Les Thompson in 1 min, 31 secs. I vowed at that time that I would one day ride that hillclimb. I did so in 1946 when my own Long Eaton C.C. in conjunction with South Yorks ran this event. The distance had been extended and I won for L.E.C.C. with a 1 min. 39 sec., and North Derbyshire NCU rider Cliff Beldham took the title with a 1 min 31 secs. This rider, together with Bill Day, Talkie" Ron Moore, Bill Dodds and George Postlewaite were to be our big rivals in Grass Tracks throughout the next few years.

1938 started with war clouds gathering, naturally no-one wanted war and so when Neville Chamberlain came back with his “bit of paper” from Munich everyone rejoiced at this! The autumn of that year Mr. Rogers, who was headmaster of Derby Road School, persuaded me to attend his “Keep Fit class” which was held every Monday and Thursday evenings at 7 p.m. It had taken a few weeks to persuade me, as I was very self-conscious of my thin calves due to years of plaster of Paris clad legs. However I attended. Looking back and with the benefit of hindsight, Mr Rogers psychologically gave me a lift, as I found that my abdominal muscles were superior to anyone in the class. He had me on the ‘rings’ and I was able to hold my legs out straight for minutes on end. I could sit on the floor and raise my bottom off the ground with my legs outstretched, climb the ropes using hands only, with legs straight out all the way to the roof and back, for once I could do something that no one in the class could do, most of the cycle club attended. After the class we all trouped to the “Grimsby” fish and chip shop. We sat at tables, which had glass tops, one of which was broken with two pieces left on the side. We proceeded to repair this table top, the last piece going in with a loud bang, whereupon the Proprietor picked up a large carving knife and chased us out of the shop. He did have the good grace to apologise to us the following Thursday night as he noticed we had repaired the table.

#010 Touring with the LECC

2008-03-10T15:25:00.001Z

The following day I started work in an office specialising in lace design and draughtsmanship. I was with them for a year, it was very interesting and to this day (1998) 1 can still remember putting patterns on those long machines and sticking round bit in the holes of the jacquards at the rear. Panic stations existed when nylon was introduced, because when it broke you could not find an end ‑ it just disappeared. I was still cycling and was used by our gaffer to deliver patterns in a 10 mile radius of Long Eaton.

By this time I had joined the Long Eaton Cycling Club, not to race but to go touring. It’s funny how one remembers those first club runs. At Tissington, where the famous well dressings took place each year, then through a host of lanes where tea was taken at Kirk Ireton, then back home via the Cubleys. There then followed visits to Creswell Crags and Welbeck Tunnels. These connected the big houses of the Dukes hence the name for the area “Dukeries”. Dinner was at Cuckney and tea at The Hut near Mansfield. We toured the Snake Pass, Cat & Fiddle, Mooredge and the Roches. Club run to Derwent was a must; we watched the early construction of Lady Bower dam, which was opened late in the war. We also had a run to Frieston Shore near Boston, whose idea that was I don't recall ‑ only that it was a heap of mud and we had cross winds too. Another run that sticks in my mind was to Lincoln Cathedral and the Castle and the Jail that was not then in use. The mines at Castleton was another long run with Winitts Pass and Mam Tor then on to Dove Holes and back through Buxton stopping at Tideswell for tea, then a long bash home.

Another wonder of those days were the landladies of the houses with the CTC (Cycle Touring Club) sign outside, for the princely sum of 4p one could use all their facilities and also have a pot of tea included, in to‑days inflated prices its seems impossible. Several landladies come to mind, like Mrs Buckley at Rowsley. We stopped here playing cards till 9pm she never seemed to bother. In fact her husband joined in. then we had the long ride home mostly in winter.i.e 33miles.

At Waterhouses we made the acquaintance of Mrs. Hickenbottom, we called her nattering Annie, if you hadn’t booked you were in dead trouble, but after a lot of harsh words she would come round and say 'We have only got egg and chips to‑day', she always found a cake for us though, woe betide anybody else who were late and then stated they were with us they had no chance, she had a nice fire for us in winter but you were in dead trouble if you put your feet on the fender. Another great place was Mrs Boam at Winster, great food there and always a good welcome. I’m sure these women looked forward to seeing us, even though they grumbled, touring cyclists very quickly get to know the best places to eat and another ‘watering hole’ was the ‘Ever Bubbling Kettle’ at Lincoln.

Whitsun 1938 saw us on a trip to Wembley Arena for the London six day Bike race, we arranged to leave at 5.30am unfortunately I overslept. However 1 knew we were stopping for breakfast at Bruntingthorpe, so my Dad got the car out, slipped my bike on the rack and I was able to catch them up. We had breakfast then set off for Wembley travelling via Newport Pagnell and Woburn then along the A5. We had dinner at Woburn then on to Wembley for a 7 p.m. start. What a riot of colour and the track and the riders, I can still remember some of them, Cor Wals of Holland, Jeff Scherens. Karal Kears, Syd Cousins with Charlie Helps both of England. Schulte and Boyen, Vrooman, Holland. Owing to the political climate the Foreign Office in their wisdom banned the Germans and Italians, we all had a most marvellous night. We were turned out early in the morning and boy, was it cold. We rode back home dead tired in fact several of us got our capes out and slept for an hour on the pavement. That same year my pal Stan from the Somerset/Devon tour was called up to the Air Force.

Another lad of our crowd Freddie Hillier asked me to go with him to Scotland for a week, cost would be reasonable as we could stay with his Uncle Bill at Hawick. Another lad decided he would also like to come, his name, Ernie Chadwick. We left on the Friday night before the Bank Holiday weekend, stopping the first night at a transport cafe on the Ollerton Road. We were up early next day, onto the A614 then on to the A1, Fred's dad and mum were coming up to Scotland in their Morgan/Jap three wheeler. They caught us up at Wetherby and treated us to a large breakfast; the second that day, you don't half eat on a bike. We then rode up the A1 to Scotch Corner, turned left on to the A66, called at Bowes Castle and had a look round, then over the Pennines where at that time the highest railway in GB was – unfortunatley long gone now. We were very honoured to see a train go over there.

We had tea at Penrith then on to Carlisle where Fred had an uncle, thank God. We literally fell in there, his uncle owned a bakery so we had plenty to eat, we dropped into bed that night and slept like logs. Up early next day on the road to the England/Scotland border, where we stayed and took photos. Then on to Langholm, over the Moss Paul Pass to be met at the top by Fred's uncle who took us into the Moss Paul Inn for another feed, we left there and almost freewheeled in to Hawick, we stayed in a block of flats near the then Railway Bridge. We put our bikes away and didn't use them again until we came home the following Saturday. Fred's uncle took us to all the local sights and Abbeys.

We also had a trip to Edinburgh on the train, crates of beer were bought we had a whale of a time, singing all the Scottish ballads to Fred's uncle playing the mouth organ. In no time we arrived at Princess Street Station, and the fabulous Scottish capital, Princess Street was a revelation. Shops on one side and the castle and Walter Scott monument on the other, we were also taken on the train across the Forth Bridge to North Queens Ferry Station, bearing in mind the wonderful bridge was only 40 years old then, we were mesmerised. We returned back to Hawick on the train with more beer and songs. Whilst at Hawick we visited the grave of Jimmy Guthrie, the famous International Motor Cyclist, who had been killed at Hockenheim track that same year, he had skidded on a patch of oil after the finishing line and was taken to hospital. Adolf Hitler brought to his bedside his laurel leaves and trophy. Unfortunately he died shortly after. (His brother had quite a flourishing garage at that time in Hawick).

Saturday came for the day of our return, we checked the bikes - not much to check ie fixed gear with one front brake. We bid our tearful goodbyes then on the road, the pace was slow and not many words were spoken. We stopped at Fred's uncle again at Carlisle, then on the A66 to Penrith and then over Bowes Moor to Scotch Corner flying thro Borrowbridge, Wetherby, Doncaster and home. The journey was a nightmare; we arrived home having completed 250 miles in one day. All our parents were on holiday, so we had to break in to Fred's house, then to sleep for 14 hours ‑ I have never ridden so far before or since.

#009 Devon and an introduction to Cider

2008-03-10T15:22:00.000Z

Clinic was still being attended, a great day being when the plaster casts were cut off, but as before the only trouble was having to learn to walk again, I was terribly upset by the thinness of my calves, so I was pleased when I was fitted with long trousers. At fourteen my schooling came to an end, I had still kept up with my cycling and had made a friend of a Stan Tysoe. He was a year older than me, as my school finished at the end of July 1936 and August Bank holiday was just after, he suggested we go on a cycle tour to Devon Somerset, (he was unfortunately killed at Heliopolis in 1941 serving in the RAF). Dad and Mum were going on holiday that same week to Cornwall, so they offered to give us a lift to Bridgwater. This was a big help. We left Long Eaton at 6am, no M5 in those days, but A38 all the way. Embracing Birmingham, Worcester Gloucester and Bristol and so on to Bridgwater. I can't remember what time we left but we arrived in Minehead around evening time, we had budgeted for Bed and Breakfast at 4/6d (22p) we found a place which also provided evening meal for 3/6 so we had that too.

We were up and away early next morning the weather being perfect, bound for Porlock and Lynemouth, on the way we were “caught” by two Manchester lads who were on a similar tour to so we joined forces. Our first obstacle was Porlock Hill, as some may know the road leaves Porlock on a gradual gradient for about a mile then turns sharp right. The gradient is about 1 in 3 immediately, as we were only on 69-inch fixed gear with one brake, we dismounted on the apex of the bend. Cars were coming up to the bend in the wrong gear and stalling, the first one after our stop asked for a push, which we gladly gave the people in the car, they then threw us their loose change out of the car windows. Naturally we stopped there most of the day earning quite a large sum each albeit a bit heavy in our saddlebags. For this reason we only made it to Lynemouth, which is only 21 miles from Minehead; we were able to join the Y.H.A it was only a shilling per night (5p) and the same for dinner and breakfast and 4p for a sheet sleeping bag. The minimum age for joining at that time was 16 but we wangled this (I was 14).

After the evening meal the Manchester lads decided to explore the town and we went along, we tried the lift from Lynemouth to Lynton the Manchurians (who were older than us at least 17) and had been at work for 3 years, asked to go in a Pub. I said I didn't drink, after all we had only just left the Band of Hope (i.e. an anti‑drink concern very prevalent pre‑war). Anyway we entered and I said I would have lemonade, no said the Manchurians “try the sweet cider its great”, thereupon I was given a pint of cider and sure enough I liked it and had two more. The time was now 9‑30 p.m. and curfew time was 10 p.m. at the hostel. Any later and you were locked out and they were very strict on this. Anyway I stood up to go and fell flat on my face, my knees buckled and I had to be carried back, a good start to my introduction to Pubs. On returning to the hostel we entered the common room where a riotous singsong was in progress till 11 p.m. ‑ then cocoa and so to bed.

The next morning after breakfast we had our duties which for us was washing up for about 90 people or it seemed like that, we left about 10 a.m. on the way to Bampton youth hostel which is in North Devon ‑ and the problem of the Quantock Hills, the problem being to us at any rate was that these hills seemed to be 4 miles up but only 1 mile down!! On arrival at the hostel the warden told us that the main hostel was full and we would have to stay in the barn. The only spaces left were top bunks - three tier models ‑ quite a job to climb up and especially difficult to negotiate if one had to go to the toilet trying not to stand on the other two occupants heads.

All went well at Bampton, we did our morning duties then packed our bags and off towards a place we had been told not to miss - Clovelly. We arrived there OK but couldn't get accommodation, someone recommended us to try Higher Clovelly (now a large Car Park). Sure enough an old couple in a terraced cottage put us up, the price being 5/6 B & B and evening meal. What a lovely place Clovelly was in those days, we spent our time rowing (we were taught sea rowing by the local fishermen who we had played dominoes with in the Pub and yes, I had grown very accustomed to the sweet cider by then). We swam and really had a good time. On the second day we were there we were negotiating the steep steps down to the beach when just in front of us a lady fell, she was obviously in pain having injured her right leg, so we bound both her legs together (a la Boy Scouts). We borrowed a stretcher from the Lifeboat station and via the donkey path we carried her up to Higher Clovelly where we rang for an ambulance. The lady was overjoyed and cordially invited us for lunch at her house in Taunton on our way home the next day. You may be wondering why we had to negotiate the donkey path in Clovelly, the reason being that since 1926 no motor vehicles were allowed down the steps.

We left Clovelly on the Friday morning arriving at Taunton at the appointed hour of l p.m., actually we had a job to find the house going by it a few times because we were not expecting a mansion with a long wooded drive up to it. However we rang the bell and a uniformed butler opened the door and asked our business. We informed him whereupon he said we were expected, but would we change our clothes, he was really put out when we informed him that what we had on was all we had. The lady was really a Lady and made us feel at home, we had never seen so many knives and forks but we got through OK

After leaving Taunton we had a long wet ride to Batheaston youth hostel. One of the Manchurians fell in the then tramlines in Bath. The next day Saturday, we were on the road to Worcester we stayed at Holt Mill youth hostel, here we parted our ways with the Manchester lads ‑ we going on the A38 – and we were all miserable to part , but strangely enough we never corresponded with them. Stan and I had a terrible ride home in rain and wind, but the sense of achievement was really good, we had done it under our own power.

#008 Back to Bretby

2008-03-10T15:21:00.000Z

Also pre-war and with my dad’s help, 5 of us bought a brand new bell tent for £5, each of us paying my Dad a shilling a week for it. Dad took the tent and all the gear to Pear Tree farm at Kinoulton in Nottinghamshire. We would cycle there most weekends, we bought a Primus stove and did all our own cooking buying bacon and eggs from the farm. The farm owned a fine tennis court and with their permission we marked it out having already mowed the grass, then we paid to play on the court. We had a knock out tournament most weeks. We also had a ridgepole tent. Two of the lads slept in these using sack bags stuffed with hay as a mattress. On one particular Saturday Sir Jesse Boots (Boots the Chemist) daughter came with her boy friend, they had all the best camping gear, we got on quite well with them and they copied us by stuffing some sack bags with hay for a mattress. On the same evening we walked along the canal tow path to the next village Hickling, and straight in the pub near the road bridge, here we had quite a few pints of beer and also played dominoes with the locals a good night being had by all.

On our return to the farm we were passing the Boots camp, their tent had been flattened - the cattle had ransacked their tent to get at the hay. We thought in our inebriated state that this was a huge joke little knowing that our tent had had the same treatment. The farmer lent us tarpaulins so we were able to effect good repairs. The rich Boots people could afford to stay at the farmhouse. We camped here most weekends but we had to take the tent down, the Army objecting to the camp at the outbreak of war. They were frightened of air attacks by the Luftwaffe, what a joke.

February 1934 saw me back at Bretby Hall for further operations to my feet. This time the stay was only six months. In the hospital were quite a few lads who were there in 1929/30, they were delighted to see me and wanted to know all the news of “the outside world”. The same food was being served and the same games were being played in the ward, it was as though I had not been away, school was the same. One improvement had been made ‑ a tuck shop had been opened. We were then able to spend our meagre pocket money on sweets of our own choice. Mr Heather still appeared with his goodies and still held the Sunday singsong ‑ it appeared louder than ever to me. The day of joyous home return soon came this time, it was sad goodbyes to all my comrades in the hospital, some of whom were destined to be there for many years hence. 1 was to return to this hospital for a knee operation 40 years later.

Back home once more, I was to see the shop's new extension. A new shop front had been fitted; motorcycles were now being sold, ie Triumph, B.S.A., Excelsior and New Imperial. A larger workshop had also been built by George Leivers, later to be a prominent builder in the locality under the name of Brown & Leivers. Reedman’s Builders of Sawley did the shop alteration and fittings.

Return to school was again more difficult; I was again put in a lower class. Exams were on at the time, and next to me sat a boy from Armstrong's travelling Fun Fair who were in the town. The children from the fun fair had to attend our school, history was the exam and poor Gordon was clueless. I did the exam for him, he finished top, and there was an inquest and a reprimand for me. My brother was in the same class, having caught me up due to my hospitalisation. I finished 3rd in class so was hoping to go up to the next class, however I did not go up as students who were due for their scholarship exams had preference. So, I had to wait a further six months before I made it to the higher grade. My brother Ernie won a scholarship to the Grammar School the following year. I had by this time caught him up, my stay in hospital thwarted my taking the test for Grammar School.

#007 Monsal Dale and Blackpool

2008-03-10T15:17:00.001Z

Later on that year in September, Dad and I went on our bikes to Monsal Dale for a week’s holiday. Dad had an uncle who farmed at Monsal Head and Great Longstone. What a thrill it was to bike 40 miles with Dad who obviously had to push me some of the way. We had a marvellous week there culminating at the weekend with a trip to Blackpool Illuminations, the trip was organised by Great Longstone choir (it was their annual outing), two people had dropped out so Dad and I were invited to fill be vacant places. We caught the train at Great Longstone station (closed by Dr Beeching), walking the 4 miles from Monsal Head, we changed trains at Manchester (as far as I know this is now the G Max exhibition centre). As we neared Blackpool, dad asked me to look out of the window to see Blackpool Tower, this tower had the impression of moving from side to side of the carriage as the track snaked.

Blackpool was a real treat for me, every tram and every building was lit up ‑ even the Tower had a searchlight on top. We eventually caught the train back home, unfortunately the train only stopped at Monsal Dale station so it was a long climb to Monsal Head.

We left there on Monday and biked over to Sheffield, where my dad’s brother Sam entertained us. On the following day we had a tour round the famous Vickers Steel works at Attercliffe ‑ seeing all the drop forging plants and the foundry filled me with wonder. During the time we were at Sheffield, or actually the suburb of Firth Park, my cousin and I walked through Pitsmoor and then climbed up Wincobank Hill, quite a good view of Sheffield could be obtained from there. (It has now been built over). The real reason for our wanting to top this view point, was to see the World War I sites for anti aircraft gun and searchlight posts, parts of which were still there, for us 7 & 9 year old it was quite something. Uncle Norman from Long Eaton who was the proud owner of an Austin Seven collected dad and me from Firth Park, the bikes tied to the rear luggage rack.

On pre-war visits to my cousins at Firth Park in Sheffield we would visit Owlerton Stadium where Sheffield Blue Socks played Baseball, this game was very popular around 1936. On one particular night Boston Red Sox from America where playing Sheffield Blue Socks and starring in the Boston team was the legendary figure of “Babe” Ruth the finest player the world had ever seen. He was at the end of his career reduced to playing demonstration games. We were honoured to see him play he ran two “home” runs that night the crowd where ecstatic.

On future visits to our Uncle at Monsal Head we marked a diamond out on their large lawn then played with a broom handle as bat and a tennis ball. My two brothers and I would cycle up to Monsal Head on most Easter and Whit bank holidays our cousin Maurice would meet us there having cycled over from Sheffield. How my Aunt was able to feed us, I’ll never know as she had no inkling we were coming, we would stop at least three days and all their family i.e. two lads and two girls played baseball with us a great time was had by all.

#006 Life at home

2008-03-10T15:00:00.000Z

Home, after hospital life, seemed very small. The shop was busy, the bell going throughout the day. Often times my dad was called from the workshop at the rear of the premises to deal with an awkward problem, this necessitated him coming through the living room to shouts of “wipe your feet” from my mum!. Starting back to school was always difficult especially if half way through a term, they also put me in a class lower than my age, owing to my being absent ‑ seemingly not to know about hospital school. In summer we learnt to swim at Derby Road baths, these baths were unfortunately closed some little time later due to an epidemic of some kind. We therefore swam in the Erewash canal, which was only a hundred yards from our home.

We built a raft from scrap wood from the local ballast hole, this ballast hole had been formed when the Midland Railway had been laid some 30 years previous, it had filled with water and the Railway Co. was tipping all waste in to it to infill it. The new local policeman hauled my brothers before the court and, confiscating the raft, he took it on a handcart to the court. The Magistrate who was a local man, had played on this ballast hole years before us, and when the case came up, he asked the policeman where he had collected the wood. He replied that the 'raft' had been brought from Tamworth Road bridge, where upon the magistrate observed that the policeman had taken the 'raft' much further away from the site than we would ever have done. Case dismissed. A diving board was built, we obtained two scrap front springing from the local Magnet Garage (still in business), fitted these to a plank and fabricated a sprung diving board, this site is still there situated near the Tamworth Road canal bridge, part of the site is now a Sea scouts headquarters.

In 1930 or thereabouts, Long Eaton staged a week long Carnival. The proceeds those days went to the local hospitals, everyone dressed up and all the streets were decorated, including lampposts and telegraph poles. There was a prize for the best decorated street which was won if my memory is correct by Queen St. At the rear of the fire station they ran a swimming contest on the canal. Two long boats were anchored at 100 yards apart with distances marked in between, the events were a great success. The final Saturday was given over to a parade, these were miles long, at least 50 carnival bands and all the local trades on long vehicles with carnival Queen and her attendants leading. The carnival raised thousands of pounds for the local hospitals ‑ my own Bretby included.

This carnival eventually advanced so successfully that it was extended right up to 1938 to 14 days. The last Saturday of the carnival was brilliant, a big fun fair with all the latest rides and side-shows, such as boxing booths, almost as good as Nottingham Goose Fair. A sports meeting was also held on West Park where cycling and athletics were on show. The prizes ‑ being very good ‑ brought all the top cyclists and athletes to the town, later at night a big firework display was held. At midnight a huge crowd on the market place took part in community singing led by the”Daily Mail” red radio van, This van led all the parades with its tannoy system, bringing everyone out in force. Meanwhile my legs were getting much stronger, due mainly to cycling.

My Dad had been ill in 1931 due to pressure of work, but business was good so he was able to set on an assistant. At last he could take a holiday. Apart from odd days, this was his first long break since 1924, I well remember one of these days, it would be an Easter Sunday, Dad took Ernie on his bike, Mum had Alan and I rode my own machine. We went over Sawley Bridges then turned left down Whites Lane which, after opening several gates comes out at Kegworth, some 5 miles distance. Turning left at Kegworth, we travelled over the river Soar, past the high board causeway (built for cyclists and walkers when the Soar flooded). We had egg & chips at the Railway Inn and then set off through Kingston, Gotham & Clifton to arrive in Nottingham. We parked our bikes at the rear of the Ritz cinema (now the Odeon) and went in. The thrill of seeing Jack Hellyer and his organ rising from the floor was real magic for us, the film was titled "Easter Parade". This was very appropriate. We came out of the cinema, collected out bikes and sailed home with a back wind. There was no thought of our bikes being stolen. What pleasure we had from small things those days and how honest people were then.

#005 Christmas and homeward bound

2008-03-10T14:59:00.000Z

The Sunday before Christmas Mr Heather came round with a list to ask us what we would like for Christmas, I put down a farmyard, sure enough Mr Heather came dressed as Santa delivering presents for everyone (I was to learn many years later how he did this). Turkey was enjoyed by all with a doctor carving, A large Christmas pudding was ceromonously wheeled in ‑ it was a terrific day. On Boxing day we were all moved out of our ward to make way for the nurses party, it was due to finish early the following morning, we were wide awake with the noise from the band and after the do was over, ‘up patients’ raided the place for the leftover food and drink. We were half drunk in a few hours, what a time we had. All the people in that ward 5 and all other wards swore terrible. One particular day we were hard in conversation, every other word a b or f or worse, what we had not realised was that just above us was a Sisters bedroom. The sister in question worked days but she had changed one shift to night duty and we had woken her, she came down on us like a ton of bricks! The end result was that three of us were put in ‘quarantine’ under the stairs ‑ no lights and bare food for three days and nights.

On winter evenings we held relay races in the ward, the long centre table was removed and then we commenced, all events were on the floor ie backward and forward crab, rabbit jumps. And the best was crab football, I was to incorporate these relays years later when I ran a gymnasium. We were all mad keen on aeroplanes in those days drawing Spads, Bristol fighters and Fokker three wing planes. One of the boys had a ‘frog plane kit’ brought him powered by elastic, we all had a hand in building it then came the great day for the launch. The elastic was wound, the aerolons were adjusted and off it went inside the ward of course, everything was great and it did a magnificent three-point landing on the centre table. The only thing wrong was that it didn’t stop and wiped all the vases of flowers off the table. Water, flowers everywhere, the plane was confiscated never to be seen again! Also in the winter we had slide cinematography shows, the ones remembered most where Scott of the Antarctic, Nanook of the North and Rin Tin Tin. These were all silent films from the original filmmakers in the Scott South Pole expedition. Another film that comes to mind was one of that great explorer Shackleton (I have just ordered a new book from our local library by Roland Hunniford about Shackleton). Also read by most of us in the ward was a book by Cherry Orchard “THE WORST JOURNEY IN THE WORLD”. I have read this book many times since then.

After 18 months in hospital, the great day dawned when I returned home, still in plaster, but walking OK in my new boots. Goodbyes and best wishes were said to mates, several of these were still there on my return for two more ops some three years later. Dad had contacted another Long Eaton cycle dealer friend, a Mr Russell. He had the famous Raleigh agency, he also had a car and very kindly brought me home.

I had only seen my two brothers once while in hospital as no visitors under fourteen years of age were allowed, (slightly different from today's rules). The only time I had seen them was when a walking plaster and boots had been fitted, and I was able to walk over the grass in front of Ward 4 to the iron fence near the caves and lakes at the bottom. We were not allowed over this fence so all one could do was talk through it.

The trip home via Willington & Repton was like a window on another world, after the restrictive view from the hospital windows. I arrived home on a Saturday afternoon to find my brothers ‑ with a friend ‑ had gone to the local Co‑op to fetch some extra groceries, during the journey home they decided to use the towpath along side the canal. Somewhere along the way, relationships deteriorated and the three of them were involved in an argument. The friend promptly threw all the tinned food in the canal! ‑ On their return home all hell let loose, my mum going hairless, eventually calm reigned and my dad by some means or other managed to retrieve the tins.